Along The Way
by Phoenix on cloud nine
Summary: Bello injects Mike with a curious toxin after he outgrows his use. Everyone has to get used to living with and looking after a younger Mike until they can find a cure. Contains a de-aged Mike.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hey guys :) So, this is my first Graceland fic - I've written a (very) similar story for Suits, and after seeing _Iceangel1229_'s 'What The Hell' (it's awesome, go read it if you haven't already), I realised just how much I missed any kind of mini-Mike haha. This is probably set between episodes 4/5 and as of yet I don't know if I want to pretend Mike isn't investigating Briggs. We'll see how it plays out ;)**

**The title comes from a song Aaron Tveit has covered, which is all about a guy worrying about raising a kid when he's made loads of mistakes in the past, and he doesn't think he's up to it. Go give it a listen if you want :)**

**I'd like to really quickly give a shout-out to _rae7788_ who wouldn't stop harassing me til I wrote this ;) Love you Rach :P**

**Anyway, that's more than enough from me. Enjoy :)**

* * *

"Michael, I have a small assignment for you," Bello said to him, just after a training session.

Mike looked at him, trying not to show his wariness. "Oh?"

"I received a… a curious shipment of some supplies. I would like you to be the one to test it out."

"What kind of supplies?" Mike asked, his arms crossed.

"Follow me, and I will show you," Bello answered, walking towards a warehouse door that was to the side of their 'training ground'. Mike followed and slipped through the door, wondering what types of weapons or bullets he'd be modelling for the drug lord. He was surprised to see, instead, that there weren't any bullets or guns on the table in front of him. Instead, there were small vials, a needle lying next to them.

"What's this?" He asked, heart hammering slightly. He knew he couldn't do any kind of drugs or the shit storm that would come from it would be unimaginable. But how would he get out of doing it?

"One of my suppliers is something of a scientist. He told me he could make me an injectable weapon. But I don't trust him," he said plainly.

Mike, eyes never leaving the syringe, nodded. "Smart move."

"So, I would like you to test it for me."

"What?" Mike finally turned to look at Bello. "You want me to test a poison? I thought you wanted me to train your men? I can't do that if I'm dead!"

"They are coming to the end of their training, and you; your use," Bello said in a cold, casual way that chilled Mike to the bone.

"They're nowhere near the end of their training," Mike said, almost desperately. He didn't know if command would have a TAC team ready, if they were even listening after the end of the training session. Briggs wasn't there; there had been too many training sessions for them to assume they'd be a threat. There was always someone listening, but Briggs now had more important things to be doing.

"You do not tell me what to do, Michael," Bello stepped towards him. Mike tried to step back but found his arms taken from behind. He tried to struggle out of it, but he had two guys pinning each arm, and a third pointing a gun at him. Not even at his head, which sucked - he would probably prefer bring shot and killed instantly to being injected with whatever the hell it was.

Bello took the syringe and pushed the plunger slightly, making sure there were no air bubbles. Mike guessed that was a positive, at least his injector knew what he was doing.

Bello rubbed at the base of his elbow with an iodine wipe, and Mike found himself emitting a strangled laugh.

"You're making sure I don't get an infection from the needle that's putting a lethal poison into my system?" He prayed that _someone _was listening, he wouldn't even care if his cover was blown when a whole TAC team swarmed in. But nothing happened.

"Do not worry, Michael, my supplier has informed me it works in curious ways. No one has of yet died from it."

"Then why are you using it?" Mike thrashed desperately but he had at least two men holding down his arm so it was lying straight.

"Because," Bello took no time at all before plunging the needle into Mike's arm, "I wanted to see what it does before I start selling it."

Mike grit his teeth as it felt like acid was flowing around his body. He writhed and groaned and found that he had been let loose by the men who had been gripping him, falling to the floor and curling up. Every limb was on fire, it felt as though his muscles were being eaten away and he took in one final breath before everything went black.

* * *

"…_drop him…"_

"_Just… him… he…"_

"_Leave… dead…"_

Mike groaned and tried to open his eyes, but everything was too bright, too blurry. Everything ached and he let his head flop uselessly onto the ground. The soft, sandy ground. He weakly pulled an arm around and hit himself in the face with his jacket sleeve. At least, it _felt_ like his jacket sleeve, but it was way too big to be it. They must have half-put him in a body bag. Panic started to set in and he finally managed to open his eyes fully. It was getting dark and he was on the beach. He had no idea exactly where he was, he just knew he was on the beach. When he could finally move his head he began to test every other limb.

He got flares of pain but nothing so dramatic so as to stop him from getting up. He slowly sat up, rubbing at his eyes and blinking until he could see straight. It was then he finally noticed why he jacket didn't feel like his jacket.

It was huge.

It swamped him, and that was when he realised hit top did too. It was reaching past his toes, and to his horror he couldn't even find his pants.

His breathing became faster and faster as he looked down himself, staring at his hands and making an odd squeaking sound that made him forget about his hands and clutch at his throat. His hands were tiny. They were small and squishy and the sound he had made couldn't have been human.

"Hello?" He said quietly, just to hear himself, before clapping the squishy hands to his mouth. He sounded like a _toddler_.

His brain finally kicked into gear and he stood up, very wobbly and realised why he sounded like a toddler.

He was one.

He was tiny. He lifted his top and saw tiny, stubby toes that he would have deigned as cute on anyone else.

"This isn't happening," he breathed out, wincing at the sound of his voice. He hesitantly reached down and touched a finger to one of his toes. He prodded it a few times before finally realising that he should probably get off the beach. Get to safety.

Graceland.

Get to Graceland.

He was glad he had kept his phone in his jacket pocket rather than his pants pocket – an item of clothing he was pretty sure he'd never see again – and fished it out, struggling to create the patterned password with his tiny, squishy fingers.

As soon as he had unlocked it, he went into contacts before freezing. Who would believe him? Briggs would think it was some kind of prank, or a joke.

But he did have an unbelievable amount of missed calls from everyone.

So he sucked it up, and called Briggs. He answered on the first ring.

"_Mike? Mike are you okay?"_

"I think I need you to come get me," Mike said, trying to make his voice as deep as possible.

"_We will, buddy, where are you? Are you hurt?"_

"No, I uh… I don't know where I am. On a beach. Um…" He stared around in the dark for a few moments before finally catching sight of a familiar shack in the distance. "I'm near Hectors!" He said, wincing as his voice went higher than he'd anticipated. "And uh… I'm not hurt. I'm… There's something wrong."

"_I'm on my way now, Mike, I'll be there in five – do we need to go to the hospital?"_

"No," Mike doubted they'd be able to do anything for him. "No I think I… I just wanna go home." That hadn't been what he'd wanted to say originally. All he could think of though, was everyone in the house. Charlie and her over-protective mothering that sounded pretty awesome right now. Johnny and his teasing, taking his mind off things for a while. Paige, and how she'd be sweet to him, but as playful as Johnny. Jakes and his… just Jakes. He felt tears rising and brushed them away. Why was he crying at the thought of his housemates? He'd see them soon.

But what would they say?

"_Mike! You still there?"_

Oh, right, Briggs was still on the phone. He should do something. "Yeah. I'm… Listen, Briggs, something's happened. The injection – "

"_Injection?"_

"No… no one in command heard?"

"_What happened, Mike?"_

"He… Bello had something in a syringe. He injected me with it. I uh… it did something."

"_Almost there, Mike, keep talking. What did it do? You in pain? Nausea?"_

"No it's… it shrunk me." He realised how ridiculous it sounded. How ridiculous it actually _was_, but he needs Briggs to know before he finds him.

"… _Come again?"_

"I… I'm smaller. I know it sounds stupid, but I – "

"_Mike I'm pulling up, I'll be with you in a second, I promise."_ Briggs said, before hanging up. Mike sighed and dropped back onto the sand, pulling his knees up and resting his forehead on them. He didn't know what to do. He just hoped that Briggs could take charge and decide for him.

Heard the footsteps coming closer and slowly started to uncurl from around himself. He glanced over as Briggs slowed, staring at him.

"Um… Mike?"

"Yeah," Mike sighed. "Hi."

"Hi." Briggs just stared at him. "Are you uh… are you sure…"

"Am I sure I'm Mike?" Briggs nodded, his mouth open slightly. "Yeah. I was under cover teaching Bello's men how to shoot, and had the lovely experience of having his right hand, Eddie, shoot himself in front of me." Mike said, knowing Briggs would need proof.

"Shit," Briggs slid to his knees, looking at him. "What even happened to you?"

"Bello told me that his guys were pretty much trained," Mike explained, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. "And that he was given something new by his supplier. Apparently he made it himself. Held me down, injected me, dumped me here. Next thing I know I'm… this. All… squishy and high-pitched."

Briggs snorted, before looking serious again. "How come we didn't hear any of this?"

"It was after the session, command must have gotten bored and stopped listening as soon as it ended." Mike said, this being the scenario he had assumed was the case.

Briggs' expression shifted into a more dangerous one. "I'm going to kill them," he growled. "They know not to stop monitoring until you're back _at_ command."

Mike nodded but shrugged. "What do we do now?" He asked, voice wavering slightly. His head was starting to hurt, but he thought that it was probably due to tiredness than anything else. His arm ached where the needle went in and he cradled it to himself, sighing.

Briggs rubbed a hand over his face. "We'll go back to the house. You can be fussed over by Charlie and Paige and we'll figure it all out in the morning. How's that sound?"

Mike pouted. "Can we not tell them and say we did?"

Briggs's mouth quirked up slightly but he stood up, holding his hand out. "C'mon, it's getting late and I didn't even tell them you'd called." Mike stared at the outstretched hand. "What?"

"I'm not holding your hand," Mike told him, standing and wobbling slightly before picking up the hem of his top so he didn't fall over it. "Let's go."

Briggs smirked. "Okay, kid."

They made their way over the sand and Briggs ended up grabbing Mike's wrist as the kid stumbled just before they got to the path at the top. "Steady, Mike." He kept a hold of the kid's wrist until they got to his jeep, and then looked down at him. Mike gazed back up, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. "Okay, I'm going to strap you into the front seat, but we'll need to get a car seat for you soon."

"What? I'm not sitting in one of them!" Mike cried, outraged.

"Mike you're a federal agent, you telling me you don't know traffic laws?" Briggs responded, grabbing Mike by the middle to place him in the car. Mike huffed at this but said nothing, allowing Briggs to strap him in and shut the door. Mike rubbed at his eyes again before the engine started, and Briggs turned up the heat so that he would be warm in his top/dress. The rumble of the engine combined with the weird shift in his emotions led to Mike's eyes closing, not realising it had happened before he was on the brink of sleep.

* * *

"Oh my god, he's the cutest thing ever!"

"Briggs you gotta let me hold him."

"Does he have clothes?"

"We should take him shopping tomorrow!"

Mike's eyelids fluttered as he heard the commotion that was undoubtedly caused by their return. He was confused for a few seconds by his position before realising that Briggs had carried him inside, his head resting on the man's shoulder, hence why he was confused to be looking a different way to where everyone else was. He also realised his mouth had been open, so he had drooled all over Briggs' shoulder.

"Wha?" Was his first, unintelligible word. He pulled his head up and gazed around, scrunching his nose and rubbing at his eyes with a closed fist, which was apparently adorable because Charlie and Paige both beamed and there was a small amount of squealing and awing. "I don't wanna go clothes shopping," Mike murmured, before realising that this was the first time his housemates were seeing him like this. He hoped they weren't too freaked out.

On the contrary, Paige and Charlie looked excited. He was suddenly grabbed around the middle and tugged out of Briggs' arms and into Charlie's, where he was suddenly bounced and cooed at and had his hair stroked and cheeks pinched… He tried to get away, pulling and trying to push away a hand when it came to close.

"Guys!" He whined. "Stop it!"

"Alright ladies, you can mother him more tomorrow," Briggs said, feeling sorry for the kid and scooping him back out of Charlie's arms.

"No they can't," Mike grumbled, tiredly resting his head on Briggs' shoulder without thinking about it.

"Well like it or not we're taking you shopping," Charlie told him sternly. "You need clothes until we figure this thing out."

"Can we buy a stroller?" Paige asked, grinning. "Please say we can buy him a stroller."

"I'm not a baby!" Mike protested, glaring at them both.

"I know, sweetie," Charlie said, ruffling his hair. "You're what… 3? 4?"

"I don't know," Mike grumbled, huffing and moving his arms so that they were around Briggs' neck.

"Well maybe this three or four year old should be in bed," Briggs said, lifting Mike a bit further up to hold him easier.

"I'm not tired!" Mike announced, frowning.

"I'd like to keep him up for a bit," Charlie said. "We don't know whatever the hell he was injected with, put in his system. I'll get him a drink."

"Can I hold him?" Paige asked, frowning as Mike's grip around Briggs tightened. "Oh come on, I won't drop you!"

Mike huffed but found he didn't really have a choice and was passed from Briggs to Paige like he was nothing less than a… a pineapple.

He didn't know.

He was really tired.

He yawned and didn't even notice that Paige had taken him over to the couches and sat down. He found he preferred the feeling of sitting on someone's lap rather than being carried by them. It was still weird to think he was sitting on Paige's lap.

"Oh, man – is that him?" He winced as Johnny's carrying voice came into the room, followed by Jakes'.

"Are you sure you're just not high, Briggs?" Jakes asked, folding his arms as he stood back and watched Johnny kneel by Paige's legs and attempt to play peek-a-boo with the small child.

He proceeded to get a bloody nose.

"I'm pretty sure that's Mike," Briggs replied, smirking as Charlie sighed and directed Johnny to the kitchen as she returned with a drink for Mike, before telling him off for hurting Johnny.

"Don't be so patronising," Mike muttered, clutching the glass she gave him in both hands. His hands were wobbly and weak from the injection and he didn't want to drop the glass all over Paige or himself. "Can I please just go to bed?"

"What happened to not being tired?" Briggs asked, coming to sit next to Paige. The woman pouted when Mike climbed off her knee and onto Briggs'. He passed the glass back to Charlie with a small smile as a thank you and closed his eyes.

"Aw, looks like you're Mikey's favourite," Johnny teased Briggs, grinning as Mike flipped him off.

"Paige has bony knees," Mike told him as his excuse, before looking over at Paige. "Sorry."

Briggs huffed out a laugh. "C'mon, Mike. Go to bed, and then tomorrow we can find you some clothes, get in touch with some people and get it all fixed."

"You think it'll be as easy as that?" Mike asked cynically, even as he had a gleam of hope on his face.

Briggs shrugged. "Might be. You say Bello had more of this stuff?" Mike nodded. "We might be able to get some and send it to labs for them to make an… I don't know, an anti-toxin?"

Mike nodded, feeling better because of how certain and calm Briggs sounded. Mike started trace the pattern on Briggs' shirt, stopping as it went quiet. He turned and blushed the see that everyone was looking at him.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just feel… jittery. I need to do something."

"Yo, Jakes, you got any more seized toys?" Johnny asked, smirking.

"Nope. You got any?" Briggs replied without bite.

"Nah."

"I don't need toys, guys," Mike told them, playing with his own fingers as something to do, before tapping his heels slightly as again he felt the need to be doing _something_.

"Well how about we worry about all of that tomorrow?" Briggs suggested again, standing up and shifting Mike so he was balanced on his hip.

"How do you know how to hold a kid?" Mike asked, arms slung around the man's neck once more.

Briggs didn't offer up a response and Mike huffed, swinging his legs from where he was attached to Briggs' side.

"Night, Mikey," Charlie said, smiling at him. "We'll buy you some clothes tomorrow, okay?"

"Sleep tight, Mikey!" Johnny called, grinning. "Don't let the bed bugs bite!"

"Night you guys," he replied as Briggs started walking away. "Thanks for not making a big deal of this."

"What is there to make a deal of?" Jakes said sarcastically just before they were out of earshot. "This happens all the time."

"You think we'll actually be able to find something to help?" Paige said, staring at the stairs that Briggs had just disappeared up.

"Maybe," Charlie responded, sitting back and pursing her lips. "But I don't think Paul's realised yet that he can't do anything more with Bello. Not when he was prepared for Mike to die – shows he's expendable. There's no way Mike can get back on that case."

"Not while he's the size he is," Johnny said, smiling. "When you take him shopping, are you gunna buy him toys?"

"I think we should play it by ear," Paige replied. "See what he wants."

"You really think the kid's going to want to play with toys?" Jakes questioned, raising an eyebrow and looking very doubtful.

"I think he'll get cabin fever really quickly and with nothing to do, I think he'll start to do _anything_ to get out of the boredom. It's something I've seen my cousins do all the time. It's better to have something ready for him to play with, rather than let him find a gun and shoot himself in the foot," Charlie advised, checking her watch. "I don't know about you reprobates, but I'm going to bed. I want to shop early to avoid crowds; we don't know who saw Mike as he is now from Bello's gang."

* * *

As everyone else were discussing this downstairs, Briggs was trying to help Mike get ready for bed. Except the kid was being ridiculously difficult.

"C'mon, Mike – it's just so you know you got everywhere; your hand eye co-ordination'll suck now," Paul explained, semi-patiently as the kid stood on an upturned box in front of the sink, glaring at the older agent who held a toothbrush in his hand ready to put into the kid's mouth. "Open wide."

"No," Mike scowled, clapping a hand to his mouth to prevent Briggs from helping in any way. "Let me do it myself," he demanded, words muffled.

Briggs sighed but held out the toothbrush, rolling his eyes as it was snatched from his hands. He leant against the doorway, arms crossed as he watched Mike brushing his teeth.

"You don't need to watch me," Mike said through the brush and foam.

"I know," Briggs replied, staying there anyway. He had heard about small kids accidentally choking themselves on their toothbrush.

When Mike was finished he got down, rubbing at his mouth and getting leftover toothpaste on the sleeve of the t-shirt that he'd decided to wear for bed. It was obviously too big for him, but he had nothing else to wear until they went shopping. Suddenly realising what kind of pyjamas he'd be getting, he let out a low moan.

"What?" Briggs asked, kneeling to look at him, as if expecting to see blood dripping from his eyes.

"They're gunna buy me childish clothes," Mike moaned, looking up at Briggs. "They'll get me… I don't know, Sesame Street pyjamas," he pouted at the older man, who just looked amused at the thought. "Can't you come with us? You can stop them buying it!"

Briggs laughed as he helped Mike onto the bed. "You're kidding, right? I couldn't stop Paige and Charlie doing anything if I tried. You're stuck with Elmo pyjamas if they want you to be." Mike frowned and looked down at his lap as he pulled the covers around himself. "C'mon, kid, it could be worse, they might try to make you wear Disney princess pyjamas," he stopped in case Mike accused him of trying to put ideas into their housemates' heads. Instead, he just heard sniffling, and gently pushed Mike's chin so he looked up, and saw that the kid was crying softly.

"Hey," he moved his hand to rest on Mike's shoulder. "C'mon, Mike, it's okay."

"No it's not," he snivelled. "I don't wanna be a baby for the rest of my life."

"You won't be," Briggs reassured him. "You just said you're not a baby. And Charlie said you were maybe 4. That's pretty much a teenager!" Mike chuckled weakly. "Don't worry, Mike, we'll get this reversed. I bet a week, max, and we'll have the old you back. Okay?"

Mike nodded, rubbing at his eyes in order to stop anymore tears. "Thanks, Briggs. I'm sorry," he laughed slightly. "I won't cry again, I promise."

"Don't worry about it," Briggs chucked his chin before standing up. "Get some sleep, alright? You have a big day tomorrow."

Mike managed to muster up a smile before Briggs turned the light off and closed the door, plunging him into darkness.

Mike's heart rate immediately elevated, and he breathed out slowly, pulling the covers up to just under his eyes. He'd never had a problem with the dark before. Never assumed something was lurking in the corner of his room. His dad had always scoffed and told him that such things just didn't exist.

But something right now was telling Mike to be wary. He slid down under the covers and squeezed his eyes shut, thankful that he was already tired. It didn't take long for him to fall into a deep, if somewhat fitful, sleep.

* * *

**A/N Hope everyone enjoyed that, and shouldn't be too long until the next chapter :) Let me know your thoughts, and if I should even continue :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Guys, I'm so thrilled that you all liked the first chapter and want to keep reading :) Thanks so much for all the reviews, I hope the future chapters don't disappoint :)**

* * *

Mike yawned as he sat up, wincing as he stretched and realising his arm still felt sore from the injection. He slowly sat up and rubbed at his eyes. It was thankfully a lot lighter, but a glance to his clock told him it was only 6am. A time he'd be up at anyway to go running, but now he couldn't. And he had nothing to amuse himself with either. He couldn't go back to sleep, he already felt wide awake. But he knew no one else would be up.

Still, he slid out of bed carefully before going to the bathroom, tugging the box he'd used the night before to reach the toilet before then pushing it back over to the sink. Making a note to ask if anyone had a spare box so he didn't have to keep moving things, he made his way downstairs, rubbing his eyes as the sun hit the large windows and lit the whole room up more than his bedroom was.

He wandered aimlessly for a while before dragging a kitchen bar stool over to the fridge and opening it, wobbling dangerously as he tried to keep his balance. His hands went for the box of chopped fruit that on any other day he would happily eat for breakfast. But something was telling him he didn't want it. He didn't want anything that they had stored in there. He had no idea what he wanted, but he was hungry and it was starting to make him pretty agitated. He gave a small whine to himself and kicked his legs, before letting out a relieved sigh as he heard someone pad into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" It was Briggs, and Mike grinned at him as he walked over.

"Looking to see what I can have for breakfast," Mike explained, before frowning. "But I don't want any of it. Do we have anything else?"

"You don't want any of it?" Briggs confirmed, glancing down at him. "This has everything a health nut like you could want. What's not to love?"

"I just don't want it. Do we have pancakes?"

"You want pancakes?" Briggs frowned.

"Can I have syrup on mine?"

"When have you ever voluntarily eaten syrup on pancakes?"

"Please?" Mike begged, suddenly feeling that this was _exactly _what he wanted to eat. And Briggs could cook it so he didn't have to worry about falling off a stool trying to do it.

"Okay," Briggs shrugged. "Do me a favour though, and don't tell Charlie."

"Deal," Mike agreed, climbing down from the stool and toddling to the table, happy to see that someone had abandoned and old newspaper and left a pen from their failure at finishing the crossword. He took up the pen and started doodling on the pages for lack of something better to do. His feet were tapping and he shifted every so often in his seat.

"Ready to go shopping?" Briggs asked him, a smirk on his face as he flipped the pancakes.

"No," Mike scowled. "They won't listen to anything I say, will they?"

"Probably not," Briggs replied, getting a plate ready for Mike's food. He hadn't even properly registered he was doing this for the kid until they were nearly done. Why had he so easily bent to satisfy the kid? He dished up the pancakes and lathered them in copious amounts of syrup, wondering how the kid reacted to sugar and if it would annoy the girls.

"Okay, eat this before Charlie gets up, alright?" Briggs said, putting the plate down in front of Mike, before pausing and looking over Mike's shoulder at what he'd been drawing. "What's this?" He asked, pointing to one.

Mike shrugged. "I was bored. I like to doodle."

"Well don't quit your day job," Briggs smirked, seeing the mess of scribbles.

"Shut up," Mike mumbled, before quickly tucking into the pancakes. "Thanks, Briggs," he said through a mouthful. Paul patted his head and sat opposite the kid, eating his own plateful. He watched Mike when the kid wasn't looking and found himself slightly amused by how much difficulty Mike was having with cutting up the pancakes into bite-sized pieces.

"Need help there?" Briggs offered.

Mike flushed and looked down. "I'm fine."

"Mike," the small boy looked up. "Let me help." Mike went silent but pushed his plate towards Briggs.

"Thanks," he muttered, resting his face on his hands after perching his elbows on the table. "What are you doing today?"

"While you're getting personally styled I'm going to see what I can find out about this crap that Bello used," Briggs said, pushing Mike's plate back with smaller pieces for him to eat. "And I need to tell Gerry."

"No you don't," Mike moaned. "No one needs to know. We'll get me changed back in no time, right?"

"Right," Briggs smiled. "But people still need to know," he suddenly stiffened and cocked his head, almost like a dog. "I think Charlie's getting up," he said. "Eat up," he said, carrying his already empty plate to the sink and hurriedly washing it up, as well as the pans he had used to make the pancakes.

A small tugging on his pants made him look down and he smiled as Mike held out a plate and his cutlery, food down his front and syrup all over his face. Briggs hastily washed it up before grabbing Mike around the middle and sitting him on a counter.

"How did you even manage this?" Briggs asked as he grabbed a clean washcloth and wet it, bringing it near Mike's face.

"Quit it!" Mike pushed at his hand before grabbing the cloth. "I can do it myself!"

Briggs sighed but just let Mike scrub at his own face. He had a feeling he'd have to very carefully choose his fights these upcoming days.

"Morning, boys," Charlie said as she walked down the stairs. Briggs put a finger on his lips and Mike nodded, turning to grin at Charlie as she approached. "You all set to go shopping?" She asked, looking like she was ready to leave the house any minute.

"Do I _have _to?" Mike asked, frowning. "I don't even have any clothes til we _go_ shopping, so can't you just go buy stuff and I'll wait here?"

"No," Charlie replied, as if it were obvious. "Cause I don't know your size."

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure you want to be there for when they try to get you into onesies and Spongebob pyjamas," Briggs informed him. "Though it'd be great blackmail material."

"Paul stop making it sound worse than it will be," Charlie told him, holding a spoon to him threateningly.

"I don't want a onesie," Mike frowned, climbing off the bench slightly to sit on a stool, lowering his head to rest on his arms on the bench.

"See, you upset the kid."

"Oh, _I _upset the kid?"

"Yeah, you're the one who's going to be dragging him around the entire city."

"Well you're the one who – "

"Guys!" Mike yelled, causing them to stop and look at him. "Stop fighting! Let's just… Can we just go soon?"

"Shops won't be open yet, Mikey – go watch tv or something," Charlie suggested as she grabbed a bowl for her cereal. "You hungry?"

"No, Briggs made me something," Mike said generically, climbing down from his stool and going over to the couch and bouncing on it slightly as he sat on it. Maybe all that syrup wasn't the best thing he could've eaten. He felt jittery and almost uncomfortable in his own skin. He rubbed at his arms, wincing as he brushed over the slight bruise from the injection point. He frowned at it and glanced over at Charlie and Briggs, seeing them talking quietly to each other. He felt really uncomfortable, like he _had _to be doing _something _or he'd just start to scream. With this in mind he went back to them, fidgeting even when he got there and stood still, bouncing from one foot to the other.

"Something I can help you with?" Briggs asked him, eyebrow raised.

Mike tugged at Charlie, ignoring him.

"What is it, Mikey?" Mike held his arm out, frowning. Charlie's lips became tight. She didn't need to ask what it was; she knew track marks only too well. "Does it hurt?" Mike nodded and tried to climb onto her, only so that he could get onto the bench – maybe there was something for him to do on it? But when she picked him up so that he didn't need to struggle on his own, she was under the impression he had wanted to stay on her lap. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, so he stayed there, even though he wiggled incessantly and drummed his fingers on the table.

"Calm down, kiddo," Briggs said, leaning casually against the sink as he finished the conversation Mike hadn't even paid attention to with Charlie.

"I can't!" Mike whined. "I feel like I need to be doing a thousand different things at once but I can't do any of them! There's nothing for me to do here and I feel like I'm going to crawl outta my own skin soon!"

"Alright, take it easy," Charlie told him, moving him from her lap and onto the floor. "We're going to go shortly, okay? Then we'll buy you some stuff that you can do stuff with if we're all too busy for you. Okay?"

Mike frowned. "I don't want _toys_!"

"I think you do," Charlie replied. "Look at you. I can see how agitated you are that you're not doing something. You wanna be running, screaming, getting rid of all the excess energy, right?"

Mike nodded, looking annoyed that she could tell so easily. "It could be the syrup though," he explained, before physically clapping a hand to his mouth, his eyes bulging slightly adorably as he looked over at Briggs.

"Syrup?" Charlie questioned, copying Mike and glancing at Briggs. "What did you feed him, Paul?"

"It was only a bit of syrup, promise," Mike said, pulling at Charlie. "We had pancakes. I'm sorry. Don't be mad at Briggs," he begged, making sure Charlie looked at him so he could give her the impressive puppy-eyes he was pretty sure he had now. "I'll get toys, I want toys – I promise I won't complain," he babbled.

"Mike, it's okay," Briggs told him, a smile on his face. "I can get out of trouble myself. Go do something, alright? Go… jump on your bed or something."

Mike's face lit up and he shot up the stairs, stumbling once or twice and sometimes finding it easier to propel himself up with his hands as well as his feet.

"If he breaks his neck, you're gunna be the one explaining it to Gerry," Charlie told him, crossing her arms.

"Relax; like you said, he needs to work off his excess energy," he rolled his eyes as she continued to glare at him. "When you get back and he has clothes I'll take him for a run on the beach, alright?"

"We'll get him something to play with," Charlie decided. "He said he needs to be doing something, and I bet he'd be happy to play with toys after a while."

"He'll hate you for it," Paul warned her.

"No he won't. He'll be thankful to have something to do."

They heard a distant squealing sound and frowned, Briggs putting down his coffee mug to go investigate. Before he made it five steps, Paige came down the stairs, carrying a giggling child upside down.

"Guys, I found this kid jumping on Mike's bed, does it belong to either of you?"

Mike giggled happily from where he was swinging and wriggled as Paige tickled him slightly.

"That'd be mine," Briggs sighed, taking him off Paige and upturning him and setting him down on his feet. Mike stumbled slightly, getting his bearings and clutching onto Paul's trousers as he did so.

"Ready to go?" Paige asked, slipping sandals on and slinging a bag over her shoulder.

Charlie nodded. "Yup – Mikey, I'm gunna have to carry you til we find the basics, alright?"

Mike huffed but nodded, although not letting go of Briggs' pants leg. Briggs knelt slightly and pulled his hands off gently. "Have fun, kiddo – let me know if they try to force you into anything _too _childish. Okay?"

Mike grinned at him. "I will. Let me know what you find out about Bello?"

"Will do. See you guys later."

* * *

"Oh my god, Charlie look at this top, we _have _to buy this!"

"Paige, would you get a load of these shorts?"

"He'll be so cute!"

Amid their excited squeals and gushing over the small clothes they were surrounding, Mike frowned, feeling a headache coming on. He clung onto Charlie's leg, worried about being separated from them in the huge store. Their first stop had been to quickly buy socks, underwear, shoes and clothes that he could wear there and then. He scuffed his brand new sneakers (with Velcro attached) along the ground and pulled slightly at his new top (it was green, with a picture of a giraffe on and he hated it and hadn't been shy about letting the girls know that). He glanced at the ridiculous amount of clothing they had in their basket and sighed, hoping he wouldn't have to try them all on.

"Guys, I'm going to go pick my own pyjamas, alright?" He said, tugging on Charlie to make sure he had been heard.

She looked down at him. "We're almost done here, then we can all go, alright?"

"No! Please, Charlie, let me have _some _control over my life right now? Please?" He begged. "They're just over there, you can still see me and everything!" He pointed to the racks of colourful pyjamas and she nodded.

"You stay where I can see you though." she told him sternly.

"I will." he promised, rushing over to the clothing. He found himself immediately drawn to the bright green and turquoise stamped ones, but on closer inspection he found that they were Scooby Doo themed. He hastily backed away and circled the racks, every so often coming upon a pair that were a plain colour, only to see that they had some kind of print on the chest.

"Found anything?" Charlie asked as her and Paige found him.

"No," he frowned. "They're all stupid."

"What about these ones?" She asked, finding a pale blue set.

"They have a picture of a pirate ship on the front." Mike pointed out.

"These ones?" Paige suggested, holding up a red set

"They have robots on the front." Mike said, his lips wobbling slightly.

"Mike you're going to need to wear something, and no one's going to care what they look like," Charlie told him, putting both pairs in the basket. "It's the best you'll get from the kids' section, alright?"

"Cheer up, Mikey," Paige said, lifting him up and balancing him on her hip, leaving Charlie to man the basket. "At least you'll have clothes. And it's not like anyone's gunna see you in your pyjamas much."

Mike harrumphed but kept quiet, just glad they hadn't mentioned anything about onesies.

* * *

When they were out of the shop, both women clutching bags, Mike assumed their shopping trip was over, and that they were heading back to the house. It wasn't to be, it seemed, as he was taken into a large toy store.

"It's okay, you guys, I really don't need…" he trailed off, moving away from them as he was taken in by the vast amount of different toys on the shelves. He barely heard Charlie as she said something to him, and ran down one aisle, reaching for a toy plane, not quite managing, even on the tips of his toes.

"Mike don't run off like that," Charlie said sternly, even though she was smiling slightly. "You like planes?"

Mike shrugged, thanking Paige shyly as she took the toy off the shelf and put it in his hands.

"Anything you want, we can get," Paige told him. "I took Paul's card."

Mike giggled and slowly put the plane in their cart – something Charlie and Paige had gotten simply so they could put their shopping bags in there so as not to carry them. He honestly hadn't intended on getting anything at all. Maybe something like dvds or books so he wouldn't be bored – he usually kept himself busy by going on runs or working on cases, and obviously he couldn't do either of those, so books and movies seemed like the next best thing. But his mind was working overtime and he felt like he was in heaven; everything any kid could ever want was in here and he was sure his eyes were constantly wide as he looked around.

When they got to the soft toy section he gazed at the shelves before grabbing a toy lion and hugging it to himself, feeling everything melt away. The busyness of his mind, of trying to look at everything seemed to dissipate and he was left with a calm, quiet mind. He was almost in shock at the suddenness of it, and just clutched it to himself, rubbing his face in it's soft mane.

"You like that one, huh?" Paige asked. Mike nodded but wouldn't put it in the cart, choosing instead to clutch onto it as they slowly made their way to check out. He knew he must look ridiculous – must look even more childish and that was the one thing he didn't want to look, but it kept his mind in one place; with it out of his hands he wanted to play with everything in the store. At least he could let it go more at home, since there wasn't as much to do there.

Although saying that, they walked out of the store with an additional 3 bags.

"Do you need help?" Mike asked, offering to take one of the bags.

"No, we're good," Paige told him. "This is nothing to me. If all these clothes were for me, this still wouldn't constitute as a successful shopping trip."

Mike gaped at her but let it go, holding his new lion with one arm and holding Charlie's leg with his free hand as they walked back. He started yawning as they were almost there, and rubbed his face in the lion's mane more.

"You okay, sweetie?" Charlie asked him.

"Just tired. I got up early. And we've walked a lot today."

"We have, and I'm really glad you haven't whined like other kids would," Charlie smirked at him, even though she was berating herself slightly. They'd once had Johnny's nephew stay for a few days, when he was 5, and the kid had made a valiant effort to walk with them, but after a while had started to whine, sniffling at how much his legs ached. She should have checked that Mike wasn't getting tired.

"I guess I'm just tougher than other kids," Mike told her, grinning, even though his feet were aching and his legs felt like concrete. It only became obvious as they got back to Graceland, and he gave up halfway up the stairs, sitting down with a huff.

"You coming, Mike?" Paige asked, dumping the bags in the house with a sigh of relief.

"I'll be up in a minute, I just… my legs, they're… I'm pretty tired, that's all." He didn't particularly like admitting it, but he felt like he couldn't walk another step.

"You wear the poor kid out?" Briggs asked, walking up the stairs, sliding his sunglasses off and hanging them on his shirt.

"Briggs!" Mike beamed at him. "How'd it go? What did you find out? Did you get any of the serum?"

"One question at a time, kiddo," Briggs said easily, bending to pick Mike up, looking at him when the kid rested his head on the man's shoulder. "Tired?"

"We walked _everywhere_," he told Briggs, his eyes closing but still making sure he kept a tight clutch of the lion toy.

"You got a toy?"

"He got several," Paige told him, and Briggs' eyes widened at the scene inside the house. Charlie had instructed Jakes and Johnny to open all the toys, get rid of any small parts or packaging and she and Paige were cutting tags off clothes.

"Did you get those Elmo pyjamas?" Briggs asked him, smirking.

"No," he said, hitting Briggs' shoulder slightly. "I got robot ones."

Briggs chuckled and jumped Mike up his hip a little higher. "Okay; you show me what you got, I'll show you what I got."

He walked over to Jakes and sat down, Mike fidgeting in his lap and turning to get off, climbing down and grabbing various toys, showing them to Briggs as the older man told him what he'd found out that day.

"So one of my CI's told me that Bello's been keeping things quiet since yesterday. Hasn't made any new deals with anyone, stopped all of his goons from speaking to anyone and has gone on complete radio silence."

"Great," Mike mumbled moodily, making a toy shark swim through the air.

"But I did find out something. One of my CI's friends saw a shipment of vials going into Bello's warehouse the other day. And because it wasn't the kind of thing he usually sees Bello get, he got suspicious. Stuck around, saw 'some marine' get injected and then saw a kid get taken out of the warehouse. He stayed longer and heard a name. Dr. Elliot Lang."

"You think it's the supplier's name?"

"It's something to go on," Briggs shrugged. Mike nodded, putting the shark down and climbing onto the couch, nestled slightly between Briggs and Jakes. He closed his eyes as his head lolled to one side, hitting one of them on the arm but he couldn't remember who was on which side of him. The way he was pulled onto the arm in question's lap, it had to be Briggs.

"'M hungry," he said, not opening his eyes.

"I've scheduled a sauce night in 3 days," Charlie said from the kitchen. "So maybe you should store that hunger for then."

Mike – too tired to realise that she was joking and too hungry to care – started to whine.

"Briggs," he moaned. "Please?"

"Go get Charlie to make you something," Briggs told him, patting his head.

"No, you!" Mike managed to open his eyes and pull at Briggs, his lips wobbling. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He had spent all day (well, half the day) without Briggs and felt like it genuinely hurt to be apart from him. He had been slightly nervous the entire time and he only now realised he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He really hoped this would pass soon – sure, he liked Briggs; he was a good training officer and a good friend, but he didn't want to go through the rest of his life with separation anxiety whenever he was asked to go to the kitchen.

"C'mon, Mike, give me a break – I can't cook anyway," Briggs said, frowning down at him. Mike stared right back, his eyes growing dewy and large.

"I don't think he wants anyone else, man," Jakes grinned at him, before physically pulling Mike away and onto his own lap. "Do me a favour, Mikey, and show me how to use this thing," he held a remote control car in his hands and placed the controller in Mike's lap. The small boy picked it up, looking over to see that Briggs had stood up and gone into the kitchen.

"Did I make him mad?" Mike asked, looking down at his lap and feeling more tears rush to his eyes.

"Nah, he's just worried we'll all see what a terrible chef he is," Jakes joked, bouncing his knees slightly. This did nothing to alleviate Mike's worry and he flushed as he felt tears leaking out. He hurriedly wiped them away but couldn't help and give a small sob. "Hey, it's alright," Jakes told him, rubbing his back.

"No it's not," Mike burbled rubbing at his nose. "I don't want to be stuck like this forever, and I don't want to keep feeling like this, but we're never going to get a cure worked out!" He started sobbing, causing Paige and Johnny – who had been arguing throughout – to silence and looked over, just in time to see Briggs take Mike off Jakes' lap.

"C'mon, Mikey," he said in a hushed voice, bouncing him and encouraging the kid to lay his head on his shoulder, not even wincing when the wet and snotty face nuzzled into his neck. "You feeling okay?"

"I wanna go back to normal," he bawled. "I wanna stop feeling like this!"

"I know you do," Briggs breathed out. "And you will. I'll find the supplier and get it reversed, Mike, I promise you." He walked around the room for a while, bouncing Mike until he couldn't hear anymore cries coming from the kid. He looked down and saw that Mike had crashed, dead to the world and drooling half on Paul's shoulder and half on his own thumb.

"Okay, next time don't have him out and walking for so long," Briggs ordered, still bouncing him slightly. "You said burn off his excess energy, not render him comatose."

"Hey, don't pin this on me, you're the one who sent him into a meltdown by abandoning him," Charlie said, gesturing to him with a knife.

"Guys you might all want to shut up," Paige suggested, watching Mike's face scrunch a few times. They all held their breath and watched, before it evened out once more and he started chewing his thumb.

"Okay, I'm going to put him to bed for a while," Briggs told them all, dipping to pick up the lion toy before walking up the stairs.

"Does no one else get the feeling that Briggs has experience with kids?" Johnny asked in the ensuing silence.

Charlie continued to make her sauce, not saying anything. It was Briggs' story to tell, and not one that should be told without him there.

"I think it's cute that Mike's latched onto him," Paige said, folding the new clothes into piles.

"I bet Briggs doesn't," Jakes laughed.

"He'll be fine after he wakes up," Charlie said. "Distract him with the toys we bought, we won't hear anything from him til after we get all this fixed. Maybe not even then."

"Oh man I can't wait to blackmail him with all of this," Johnny said, grinning. "Who wants to take a bet on how much he'll still use all of this stuff afterwards?"

Paige shook her head, laughing. "I think if Levi ever hears about this bet, you should watch out."

"What, even now?"

"Especially now. Kids are devious."

"You're telling me," Briggs said, reappearing at the top of the stairs, scrubbing at his shoulder to get rid of the dampness there. "He'll be out for a few hours now. What's with the lion?"

Charlie shrugged. "He just liked it. Grabbed it off a shelf and wouldn't let it go."

"He's so cute," Paige said from her position on the floor next to Johnny as they looked through the different toys Mike had picked out. "But we'll get him back, right?" She looked over at Briggs.

He gave her an easy smile. "Of course we will. I've got a meet with Elliot Lang tomorrow, I'm sure I can get some of the serum from him then."

She smiled back and turned back to Johnny, missing the slight frown that set in on Briggs' face.

* * *

**A/N Hope you enjoyed, please let me know your thoughts :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Guys I just want to say how grateful I am to you all that have reviewed and told me what you think - I feel like this chapter is a bit of an eh one, and doesn't really go anywhere, but I promise you, all roads lead to plot. With that in mind, enjoy :)**

* * *

Mike slowly went down the stairs, one step at a time, dragging his toy lion (which he had secretly named Lannister) by the tail. It was maybe around 4pm and the last thing he remembered was bawling onto Briggs' shoulder. He groaned at the memory and hoped that everyone had completely forgotten about it. He stumbled slightly into the main room to see that the clothes they had bought were all in organised piles and folded neatly. The toys had disappeared, but he spotted a box in the corner that hadn't been there before. He pushed it open and gaped at the amount of toys in there. He hadn't realised that he'd asked for so many. Propping the lid open, he delved inside before pulling out another box. He opened it and tipped out the contents. What seemed like thousands of blocks were inside, and he started sorting them, creating a large cityscape on the coffee table, before kneeling on the table and holding Lannister up high, roaring for him as the large lion dominated over the small city.

"Having fun?" Mike jumped and toppled off the table, landing on his ass and even bouncing a bit. He clutched Lannister to him and looked around with huge eyes, as if shocked by the pain he was feeling. Briggs stood before him, hands in pockets and a small smile on his face, eyes twinkling. "You alright there?" He held out a hand for Mike to pull himself up with, but the kid kept staring, his lips wobbling. "You're fine." Briggs told him, knowing he wasn't even hurt. He grabbed Mike by the sides and pulled him to his feet.

"You surprised me," Mike told him, frowning. "Where are you going?" He asked, seeing Briggs pull a jacket on.

"_We_ are going to the beach," Briggs told him, holding out the small shoes that Charlie had bought. "So c'mon, grab Simba and let's go."

"He's not called Simba," Mike grumbled, tugging the shoes on.

"No?"

"No."

"Well what's his name then?"

"Lannister." Mike said, although he looked like he was regretting the decision to tell. At Briggs' blank stare, he sighed. "The family in Game of Thrones? They have a lion as their sigil."

"Of course they do," Briggs rolled his eyes. "C'mon." Mike pulled the Velcro fastening tight on the shoes and stood up, holding Lannister around the middle and toddling to the back door, reaching up to open it and stepping outside, rubbing at his eyes.

"I'm still hungry," Mike told him, hearing his stomach growl.

"Alright, alright, we'll get something when we're out. Okay?" Briggs asked, knowing that a hungry child could lead to a very loud breakdown.

Mike huffed. "I guess. Why are we going to the beach?" He stumbled slightly in trying to keep up with Briggs and blushed slightly when the man simply took hold of his hand and slowed down slightly.

"Because you didn't get much fresh air when you were shopping. And I have an appointment with someone and you can help me with it."

"A what?" Mike frowned as they strolled along the path. "Wait, you didn't bring me for one of your dates did you?"

"No, because unlike Johnny, I wouldn't have to rely on bringing a kid to charm the girl," Briggs replied, stopping him before they got any further. "C'mere," he knelt down and took Mike's shoes and socks off. "Go work off some steam, alright?"

"I'm hungry, not hyper," Mike told him, pushing at his leg as if it would do something. "I don't need to work off steam."

"Just play in the sand, Mike," Briggs told him, spotting his 'appointment'. "I'll be back in a while, okay? Stay where I can see you."

He left, walking a bit further along the sand to talk to a man wearing a hoodie, even in the afternoon sun. Mike huffed and sat down in the sand, sulking and hugging Lannister tightly to himself. They were all telling him to stay where they could see him. Why? They didn't worry about that when he was normal, things wouldn't change just because he was smaller. What would he do?

Although the slightly wet sand further down the beach was becoming more and more appealing. He went over, studiously not looking over at Briggs, doing whatever kind of shady deal he was doing, and started to dig at the sand, building it into a pile and patting it down.

"This can be Pride Rock," Mike told Lannister as he had placed the lion a bit further away so he wouldn't be on the wet sand. "Or maybe Casterly Rock is more fitting?" He blamed Charlie for his knowledge of Game of Thrones. Really. He set to work creating a whole landscape, getting lost in it and forgetting that he was even with Briggs.

The man glanced over every so often to make sure the kid hadn't died, still conversing with his 'appointment'.

"Look, Manny, it's really simple," Briggs explained, hands in pockets. "Just, if you hear anything else about any of this, gimme me a call. And just keep an eye out for Mike."

"He lives with you and four other people, Paul," Manny scowled, his strong Brooklyn accent appearing now that he was annoyed. "Why should I?"

"Because I'm asking," Briggs replied. "Look, I don't know what could go down between now and when he gets back to normal. All I'm asking is that if something were to happen, if you could keep a look out."

"Alright, look, I'm a busy man. Here's my deal. You call me if something goes wrong with the kid, and I'll do what I can, alright?"

"And you'll look for Lang?"

"Jeeze, alright, I'll try!" Manny snapped. Briggs nodded before glancing back at Mike, who had finished his structure and was now jumping in the sea, splashing about and having wisely decided to leave Lannister on the shore where he could stay dry.

"Charlie's going to kill me," he muttered, but leaving the kid for the time being. He was enjoying himself.

"So this kid really used to be your housemate?" Manny asked, watching the scene.

"Yup."

"I'm guessing he wasn't always so happy to be around the sea, and that whatever the hell he was injected with did somethin' to his mind?"

"Of sorts," Briggs shrugged. "I'm gonna have to go, the kid hasn't eaten in a while. You find Lang for me within the next day or two and I'll make it worth your while, Manny," Briggs told him. "We have a deal?"

"Yeah, yeah," Manny waved him away. "I'll be in touch."

"You're my man," Briggs said, shaking his hand in goodbye. "I'll be seeing you." Manny walked away, his paranoia regarding being seen working alongside a fed overtaking him, so he walked the opposite way of Briggs.

"No, B.D, no! Bad dog!"

Briggs focussed on Mike, not having really been paying too much attention on his way over. He saw Mike had hastily come out of the sea and was trying to tug his lion toy out of a familiar dog's mouth. The mutt looked like it was enjoying the game, but Mike looked distraught and was pulling with all of his might. Finally the dog yanked and Mike flew back, landing once again on his ass and just sitting there, letting the waves pass around him and soaking him as he stared after the dog.

"Briggs!" Mike finally stood, suddenly noticing the man's presence. "He took Lannister!" With that, the small boy launched himself at Briggs, burying his head in the man's legs and sobbing, clutching tightly to Paul's pants leg material.

"Woah, c'mon, Mike, it's – "

"It's not okay!" He bawled. "You weren't here and B.D _stole _Lannister! Get him _back_!" He demanded, and Briggs swore to god the kid stamped his feet into the sand.

"Hey, hey, look at me, Mike," Briggs knelt and held Mike's wrists to move them off his pants and to move him away so he didn't knee the kid in the face. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to push the dog away, alright? I thought you liked that dog."

"I _do_! But he took Lannister and I want him back," Mike said, in between sobs. "And I'm all wet!" He wailed, deciding that he was already bawling in front of Briggs, nothing else could take his masculinity any lower and so threw his arms around Briggs' neck, clutching tightly and resolutely not letting go.

"Okay, one thing at a time, alright?" Briggs said, standing and smirking at the fact that Mike had clung on so tight that he was swinging from Briggs' neck. He quickly moved to put his arms around the kid (even though he was soaked through) so that he was no longer in danger of falling and started to bounce him gently. "You said this dog stole your flip-flops, right?" Mike nodded, once again finding sanctuary in Briggs' neck. "Did they ever turn up again?" Mike shook his head, snuffling and shaking slightly. "Alright, well how about we go buy you another toy?"

"I don't want another one!" Mike cried. "I want _that one _back!"

Briggs sighed, walking towards the path deciding not to bother putting Mike's shoes back on, seeing as how he looked set to be a permanent fixture to Briggs' hip for the immediate future. He slowly walked past street vendors before finally arriving at a hot dog stall. He would have liked Hector's, but he somehow just _knew _that the kid would refuse to eat any of it.

"Want some food?" Briggs asked. Mike shook his head darkly. "You know, being a brat will only hurt you in the long run," Briggs said casually, deciding to walk further until they were past any food. Mike started squirming in his arms, looking back and frowning, deciding he wanted food badly. To his surprise they suddenly stopped at a stall he hadn't really seen before, and Briggs pulled out his wallet from his pocket. "Pick a toy, kid."

Mike gazed at the toys on display. He felt like he was betraying Lannister, but soon hesitantly pointed at a soft, brown dog, and the seller passed it to him as he took the money. Mike held it first by it's long ear, and then lifted it up and cradled it in his arms, holding it tightly to him.

"Better?" Briggs asked, walking back to the hot dog stand.

"Yeah," Mike nodded. "Thanks."

"So what's this one called?" Briggs asked him on their way to get food. "More Game of Thrones?"

Mike shook his head, hiding his face in the dog for a while before answering. "Snoopy."

"It doesn't even _look_ like Snoopy."

"_Snoopy_."

"Alright, alright."

* * *

"Briggs did you throw the kid in the sea or something? He's drenched!" Charlie said, stripping Mike of his top and shorts and leaving him in just his underwear in the middle of the kitchen.

"Charlie!" He squealed, holding Snoopy to himself extra tightly as if it stopped them all from seeing him half-naked.

"Relax, Chuck," Briggs said, throwing a pair of pyjamas at Mike from a clothes pile they still had yet to move up to his room. "Here, Mikey – go put your jammies on," he said condescendingly, having them thrown back at him for a moment before a small hand tugged them back and pulled them on, wincing at the pirate ship picture on the front.

"Looking good, Mikey!" Johnny said, grinning at him. "Yo, I had to clear up all those blocks you left before you went out with Briggs – the least you can do is help me _enjoy _the mess before I have to clean it up!"

Mike ran over to the box, pulling Snoopy around by the ears, and opening it, finding some dinosaur toys and making them plod around the table, not looking to see if Johnny was joining in or not and instead rubbing his nose on his new toy. Johnny pulled a face but took a dinosaur.

"Hey, yo – you think this one looks like Jakes?"

From the couch, Jakes scowled at him. "Don't even go there, Johnny."

Mike giggled and they began some kind of battle between the dinosaurs, causing Charlie to roll her eyes. "Boys and their toys. Hey, speaking of; what's with the new dog?" Charlie asked Briggs as he took the wet clothes off her.

"Yeah, his lion got stolen by this stray dog on the beach – "

"B.D stole Mike's lion?" Paige piped up, frowning.

"Yeah, and he wouldn't even eat til I bought him a new toy," Briggs told her.

"You are so whipped," Charlie told him, shaking her head and stirring her sauce. "Hey, what's your plan for tomorrow? You said you had a meet with Lang, is Mike going with you?"

"No, he can stay here – you must have something for him to do, right?" Briggs asked.

"Why do I have to look after your kid all day?"

"_My_ kid? Why is it only when it's an inconvenience to you that's he's _my _kid?"

"Guys he's been a kid for like, 24 hours, how is he either of your kids?" Paige asked, flicking through a magazine.

"The point _is_," Charlie said, tasting the sauce on the tip of her wooden spoon. "Is that I have a sting tomorrow and I don't think bringing a toddler with me is really the most responsible play. Why don't you take him with you? If you're meeting with Lang, surely the kid'll be good proof for him?"

"Okay, I get it, you can't have him," Briggs shrugged, ignoring her suggestion. "Paige?"

"Busy," she said, not looking up from her magazine.

"Oh for crying out – Jakes!" He walked over and clapped a hand to the man's shoulder. "You're not doing anything tomorrow, are you?"

Jakes looked back at him, suspicious. "Depends on what I'm being asked to do."

"Mike needs a babysitter and I'd ask Johnny but do you really think that'll result in the kid surviving the day?"

Jakes sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. "Fine. But you owe me."

"My man," Briggs gently punched his shoulder before crouching down by Mike and Johnny. "Mikey, here's the plan for tomorrow – I'm leaving you here in the capable hands of Jakes and you can have Johnny here as your playmate. Okay? Then afterwards we'll… I don't know, play hide and seek or something."

Mike frowned at him but nodded, making a dinosaur walk over the table with one hand and brushing sand off his feet with the other. Briggs checked the clock. He'd gotten Mike fed and worn out, so making him have a bath before bed wouldn't take too much time before the kid passed out.

"Mike, I got a job for you." The kid literally jumped up, looking up eagerly, willing to do any job at all. "Have a bath."

"That's not a job," Mike frowned. "But fine," he jumped up and went upstairs, startling as Briggs started walking behind him. "What are you doing?"

"Helping."

"I don't need help to have a bath! Charlie, tell him!" Mike whined, wanting some kind of ally.

"Don't drown the kid, Paul," she said from the kitchen.

"Charlie!" Mike found himself being picked up and he struggled as much as he possibly could. "Briggs lemme go! Briggs!"

He eventually stopped struggling and went limp, just as Briggs walked him into Mike's en suite. Mike was unceremoniously dumped on the floor as Briggs started running the water.

"Get out," Mike pushed at his legs. "I can bathe myself."

"Mike if you can reach the taps from here, then I'll leave," Briggs told him, standing back and smirking as Mike tried and failed to turn the taps. He huffed and sat back on the floor, arms crossed and with a full pout on his face. "Look, I'm just going to run the water for you, alright? I'm not going to scrub you down, unless you think you're not capable of doing that yourself?"

"Get out," Mike frowned at him, but was forced to wait until the bath was ready.

"You want bubbles, Mikey?"

"Leave," Mike glared, pointing to the door for emphasis.

"Alright, alright – towel's right there, shampoo's there, go nuts," Briggs pointed out the various necessities and left the room, waiting to hear the splash of Mike getting in. As soon as he heard it he glanced in to check that the kid hadn't died before leaving.

* * *

Mike scowled at the door after Briggs left before wetting his hair and scrubbing shampoo in it, letting it soak for a moment as he breathed out slowly, finally letting his mind catch up with craziness of the last 24 hours. He was worried about how easily he was settling into some kind of childish routine already, and was wondering why no one was saying anything about it. He had just had a breakdown because B.D had run off with a toy lion he'd had for half the day. And had clung to Briggs. Multiple times. He leant back to wash the shampoo out and slipped, his head going under, and hitting the bottom of the tub, causing him to gasp, which meant water rushed into his mouth.

He pulled himself up, choking and gasping, spluttering and rubbing at his eyes, which had a mixture of soaps in them. He pulled himself up and tumbled out, feeling around for the towel and finally grabbing it, rubbing at his eyes until he thought he could blink a bit without it hurting. He snivelled and coughed some more, pulling his pyjamas on hastily, ignoring how wet he still was.

"Mike?" Mike glanced up and saw that Briggs had walked back into the room. "What happened?"

Mike shrugged. "Just slipped," he said, coughing some more.

"Oh, kiddo," Briggs smoothly picked him up, rubbing at his back, causing him to cough and spit slightly down Briggs' back.

"It was an accident," Mike told him, closing his eyes.

"I know," Briggs told him, grabbing the towel and rubbing it over Mike's hair. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

"I'm not a baby, I just slipped," Mike argued, but just found himself nuzzling into Briggs' shoulder. "'M tired."

"Alright," Briggs said, walking him downstairs.

"I wanna go to bed now," Mike murmured, rubbing his nose on Briggs' shirt.

"I know you do, just hold on a second," Briggs told him, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a paper towel, wiping Mike's nose and eyes.

"What did you do?" Charlie asked him.

"Nothing, he just slipped a bit in the bath, that's all," Briggs told her.

"After you left him alone?" Charlie growled. "Dammit, Briggs, he's only small, did you not learn anything after – "

"Don't even go there, Charlie," Briggs cut her off. "He's fine. And it won't happen again."

"Guys, am I missing something here?" Paige asked.

"It's nothing." Briggs said firmly. "Mike's going to bed. Say night night, Mikey," he said, smirking.

"Shut up," Mike mumbled, pretty much already asleep on Briggs' shoulder.

"See you tomorrow, kiddo," Charlie said, moving from her sauce so that she could kiss his forehead. One of Mike's thumbs made it's way to his mouth and she cooed, grabbing her phone and snapping a quick picture.

"Throw me the dog, JT," Briggs said, holding out a hand for Johnny to throw Snoopy over to him. He took Mike back upstairs and sat him on the bed, putting the dog next to him. Mike immediately clutched it to himself and curled up, thumb still in mouth.

"Night, kiddo," Briggs said. "I'll find the cure, Mike, I promise."

He left, but kept the bedroom door open slightly, so that light still shone into the room.

* * *

"Johnny… Johnny… Wake up!" Johnny's eyes flickered open and felt his bed moving slightly. He turned over to see that Mike had climbed onto his bed, Snoopy in his arms, and bouncing on it in an attempt to wake him up.

"Mike it's like…" Johnny glanced at his clock. "It's 5am!"

"So?"

"So I'm not even in charge until Briggs leaves. Go wake him up instead." With that, Johnny rolled back over and planted his face back in his pillow.

Mike pouted but climbed down, finding his way to Briggs' room. He was just bored, and had been downstairs for a while, looking through all the toys he had been bought, but he wanted company, there was only so much his imagination and a stuffed dog could achieve.

He opened the door and cautiously climbed onto the bed. It wasn't like with Johnny, where he knew the man wouldn't mind (well, wouldn't be _too _angry) that he was awoken by a small boy bouncing on his bed. Mike sat there for a while, hugging Snoopy and wondering how to approach waking Briggs up to play with him.

And yes, he had just acknowledged he only wanted someone to keep him company so they could play together.

He sighed and lay down on the covers next to the lump in the bed he assumed was Briggs. He felt himself drifting slightly and let his eyes close, curling up and gripping onto the duvet that Briggs was under.

After a few minutes he twitched slightly, his hand knocking into Briggs' back, and in an instant the man rolled over, seemingly ready to strike whoever it was that was in his bed. Mike made an embarrassing squeaky sound and cowered away, holding Snoopy up in front of himself in a valiant effort of protection.

Briggs breathed out sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "Dammit, Mike – what did you sneak up on me for? You know how lucky you are that my gun's under the other pillow?"

"I'm just… I was bored," Mike said, knowing it was a pretty weak excuse. "And I wasn't doing anything!" He suddenly argued. "I was just lying there! It's not my fault you're paranoid," he frowned.

Briggs sighed and moved to be more upright. "Seriously, Mike, was there a reason you tried to get yourself killed?"

"I was bored," Mike repeated. "And Johnny said you're still in charge."

"You went to Johnny first," Briggs clarified. Mike nodded. "And he told you to come find me." Mike nodded again. "Do me a favour, kid; go back to Johnny's room and don't leave him alone til he gets up and keeps you company. Okay?"

Mike nodded but almost deflated as Briggs patted his shoulder and rolled over to go back to sleep. He didn't want to play with Johnny anymore.

He wanted to stay with Briggs.

He lay back down and snuggled his face into Briggs' back, once again clutching at the sheets. He heard Briggs sigh but the man didn't do anything, and soon Mike was drifting once more, falling asleep pretty easily.

* * *

"… so just keep him occupied, and I'll be back later."

Mike snuffled and opened his eyes, realising he was chewing on his thumb and blearily looked around. He was still curled up in Briggs' bed, but now had a comforter over him, and saw that the man himself was standing away from the bed, talking quietly with Jakes and Johnny.

"Where are you going?" Mike asked quietly, around his thumb.

Briggs turned, looking surprised that Mike was awake. "Got a meeting with Lang, kiddo," Briggs told him. "Keep Johnny and Jakes on their toes for me, okay?" Mike nodded, sitting up and frowning as Briggs left.

"You hungry, Levi?" Jakes asked, leaning against the doorway, watching as the small boy pulled his thumb slowly out of his mouth and gripped his toy dog tightly, shuffling off the bed and nodding. "Alright, we'll find something. Why don't you go play with Johnny?"

Mike grabbed the bottom of Johnny's t-shirt and pulled him downstairs, causing Jakes to huff out a laugh. Johnny followed Mike to his box of toys and just watched as Mike upended the entire thing, causing a huge crash and the contents to spill out everywhere. Mike flinched and looked over at Johnny.

"It's cool, man," Johnny shrugged. "Charlie and Paige have left, so no one's here to bitch about cleaning. Apart from Jakes."

Mike giggled slightly but started to play with whatever came to hand, hoping to distract himself from the thoughts of Briggs leaving him for the day. He knew the man would be coming back, and knew he should be happy – Paul was speaking to Lang and might even find some kind of reversal today. With this in mind, Mike attempted to put all thoughts of Briggs out of his head.

But he couldn't. He felt on edge, and wanted some kind of reassuring pat on his shoulders or someone ruffling his hair.

Dammit, it had only been a day and a half! Maybe this was what the serum did. Weakened your emotional state bit by bit and left you completely dependent on the companionship of one person. Mike huffed and stamped his feet slightly, as if trying to channel his upset and get rid of it. He felt like running to get rid of it, but knew he couldn't go anywhere without at least one babysitter.

"Johnny, you wanna play tag?" Mike asked, fidgeting, holding a toy plane to himself.

"Man I would catch you in a heartbeat," Johnny told him.

"Aren't you supposed to go easy on kids?" Mike asked.

"Nah, I don't like going easy on anyone," Johnny shrugged, before taking another plane and holding it out. "I bet my plane can crush yours in a fight."

Mike brightened and ran off, moving his plane as if it were flying and turning it, making small, shooting noises and flying it around Jakes. He ran from Johnny, who delighted in the game, and who easily made the noises back at him.

Jakes, meanwhile, just huffed as he found some cereal and poured it into a bowl for Mike. He hoped Briggs wouldn't be too long.

* * *

Briggs walked into the cemetery, his hands in his pockets as he walked to the edge of a grave and stopped, looking down at one headstone in particular.

_Adam Delaney  
5__th__ August 2003 – 17__th__ September 2007_

That was all it said. Plain and simple. Briggs sighed and ran one hand through his hair, staring hard at the name, as if wishing it would rewrite itself into something completely different.

It was his fault this headstone existed. Completely his fault

He had lied to Mike – to everybody – about meeting with Lang. He didn't know where the man was. He trusted his CI, Manny, to track him down, but he hadn't wanted to kill the kid's spirit. Had wanted Mike to believe for a while that everything would turn out okay.

Briggs didn't want to be responsible for another small child frowning, realising he had been used and lied to.

And he didn't want Mike to end up like Adam. It was all he could think about when he had finally gotten used to Mike being tiny. How he had started to latch onto him, being thrilled to go places with him, asking where he was going. How Briggs too, had easily gotten attached to him – sure, it was Mike, his rookie; he liked his rookie. He still felt the same kind of protectiveness whenever Mike went out into the field, but at the same time this was different.

He just didn't want to make any mistakes until they found a cure. That's why he was lying to Mike. Better he have hope than realise how little hope there actually was.

* * *

"Looks like you guys had fun today," Briggs smirked as he walked in. Johnny was flat out on the couch, snoring, and Jakes had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable looking position on a chair. A Disney movie was playing on the tv and Briggs glanced around, unable to find Mike.

"Mike?" He said, loud enough to wake Jakes and Johnny up.

"You lost him?" Was Jakes' first sentence, aimed at Johnny.

"No, man – you were the one properly in charge, I was just here for fun," Johnny shot back, wriggling up. "He was right here like, a second ago."

"You were asleep," Briggs pointed out, smirking slightly. He tried not to panic. He knew Mike wouldn't leave the house, but he still felt a stab of fear.

"When are Paige and Charlie back?" Johnny asked, helping in the search by looking through kitchen cupboards.

"Late. I think they wanted us to have a guy's night in or something."

"Man, do I want to go to the Drop," Jakes sighed. "I need a drink."

"We can do that," Briggs said. "They let kids in there if you buy 'em a meal, right? We'll just start early and then take the kid home, then come back to finish off."

Jakes laughed at the Paul Briggs method of parenting but agreed and they slowly made their way upstairs.

There were signs of life in Mike's room, but the discarded toys and books could have appeared in there at any point during the day, and it was too quiet in there, so they moved on, finally hearing something from their 'costume cupboard'. The seized clothing and props were scattered on the floor and Johnny started laughing as they found Mike in the middle of it, wearing a variety of clothes, but altogether looking like Briggs' washing load had fallen on him, as each item of clothing looked like something Paul would have in his wardrobe.

"Briggs!" Mike said in slight surprise. "You're back!"

"Hey, Mike," Briggs said, kneeling by him and smirking as the boy blushed. "Having fun?"

"I'll clean up," Mike promised, hugging Snoopy close to him. "I got bored. And Jakes and Johnny were asleep. I should tell Charlie."

"You should, but you won't," Briggs said, picking the kid up and chuckling as the clothes fell off him, leaving him in the clothes that he had been wearing all day. "Because we're taking you out for dinner."

Mike grinned and started chattering at a mile a minute, telling them about the movie downstairs, and the different clothes, and what he wanted to eat. None of them understood a word, but just nodded whenever he breathed.

* * *

"I spilt it again," Mike said for the fourth time while they were out. They were at the Drop early enough for it to still be inhabited by sober people ordering meals, and so got a table without any hassle. And although Briggs had to applaud Mike for being well behaved (for a toddler), he had to admit the kid's ability to be able to eat in public was somewhat flawed.

"Do we need to get you a bib?" Briggs asked, sipping from a bottle of beer.

"No," Mike frowned, rubbing at his forehead in frustration, before just picking up his food with his hands. Thankfully, he'd ordered a burger and fries, it was just having grown up using cutlery for every meal that had stopped him using his fingers before.

"You realise you were dropping bits of food on Snoopy," Johnny pointed out to him, smirking.

"You know the dog's name?" Briggs asked.

"We spent all day with the kid and he doesn't let the dog go, of course he knows the name of it," Jakes pointed out, causing Mike to blush and hug the toy closer to him.

"How _was_ your day?" Briggs asked, wondering what they'd been doing to wear the other two agents out.

"Man, I swear, Mike has no off switch," Johnny moaned, glancing over but relaxing as he saw Mike engrossed in colouring in some kind of puzzle on the kids menu. "I don't even _remember _what we did all day. I think most of it was Jakes checking to make sure he didn't have any grey hairs."

"Briggs," Mike interrupted, pulling at his elbow. "How'd it go with Lang?"

Briggs was surprised it had taken Mike this long to ask, but sighed slightly. "He was a no-show, Mikey," he said, watching Mike as those words sunk in. "But don't worry, he said why – got a message saying he was held up and he'd meet with me another time."

"But how do you know he's telling the truth?" Mike asked, eyes watering slightly.

"Trust me, Mike," Briggs said, resting a hand on top of Mike's head. "We'll get a cure. Just relax until then, okay?"

Mike pouted but nodded, falling into silence. They stayed a while longer, until a woman approached Paul and started flirting, and Mike climbed onto his knee, blinking with round eyes and asking innocently if the woman was, "one of Mommy's friends."

They left pretty quickly, with Jakes and Johnny in hysterics.

* * *

**A/N Bit of an odd place to end, I know, and I promise, again - there will be plot in the next few chapters, honest :) Let me know your thoughts?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Hey guys - as ever, thanks so much for the reviews, and I wanna give another quick shout out to _Iceangel1229_'s story 'What the hell', which as well as being excellent, also makes me think we have the same ideas, as she published a chapter involving the same kind of storyline that I was halfway through with this one XD So yayy linked minds ;) But anyway - enjoy :)**

* * *

"Yeah," Briggs answered his cell, watching Mike standing on a stool in the kitchen, 'helping' Charlie get her sauce ready for that night. She seemed a lot more open to letting an adorable toddler help, rather than a fully grown man. Plus, it was cuter when the kid tried to sneak a bite.

After they had gotten back from the Drop the previous night, Mike had yawned and started to watch a movie, ultimately falling asleep right at the end and making no fuss when Briggs picked him up and put him in bed. Although that morning, he _had _flushed on waking up and realising that he hadn't been the one to change into his pyjamas that night. And as soon as Charlie and Paige got back, Briggs, Jakes and Johnny quickly left while they were temporarily relieved from babysitting, hoping to finish what they started at the Drop and get pretty drunk.

Briggs was feeling a bit hungover, and could only loosely remember going upstairs and carefully looking in on Mike before going to bed.

"_You owe me, Paul, you know how difficult it is to find a guy who don't wanna be found?_"

Briggs grinned. "Manny, tell me you got good news."

"_I might do. What's it worth to ya?"_

"Manny, I already made a deal with you," Briggs reminded him, rolling his eyes. "Just tell me what you have."

"_Lang's in a hotel,"_ Manny told him. _"And every day he goes out, does a different heat run and comes back on the night. If you leave now, you should catch him before he goes."_

"I definitely owe you, Manny," Briggs replied. "Thanks, bro."

"_How's the kid?"_

Briggs looked over to Mike, giggling as Charlie dabbed some sauce on his nose. "He's doing good."

"_Good."_ There was a pause, and then, _"Look, Paulie, I know that this is probably reminding you of Adam, and you need to let it go."_

"No can do," Briggs replied, looking away from the kitchen and out the windows. "It was my fault what happened to that kid, Manny. I'm not letting anything happen to Mike."

"_Whatever," _Manny sighed. _"Keep me informed, okay? I'll let you know if anything else comes up."_ After disclosing the name of the hotel, Manny hung up, and Briggs slide his phone in his pocket, swiftly grabbing his sunglasses from the counter.

"Where are you going? Can I go?" Mike asked, rubbing the sauce off his nose climbing off the stool.

"Sorry, kiddo," Briggs said, grabbing Mike around the middle and moving him so he was sideways on, tickling his sides. Mike struggled and squealed but couldn't get out of Briggs' grip. "I've got another meet with Lang, but I have to be quick." He righted the kid and put him back on the stool.

"But I can help!" Mike whined, stamping his foot and wobbling slightly until Charlie put a hand on his back, whilst the other stirred her sauce, her eyes fixed on the large saucepan.

"Mike, the best thing for you to do to help me right now, is just stay here, okay?" Briggs told him, checking the time. He needed to leave.

"But, Briggs!" Mike whined.

"Mike, it'll be fine, alright? I need to go, I can't miss him. I'll be back soon." With that he left, and Mike huffed out an angry breath, sitting on the stool and crossing his arms.

"Don't sulk, Michael," Charlie said, glancing into her sauce, adding a pinch of salt.

"I wanna go with him!" Mike told her, kicking his legs on the counter.

"I know, but you heard what he said," Charlie replied, finally turning from her sauce to look at him. "So stop sulking and do something constructive."

Mike frowned but climbed down from the stool, walking over to his toys, before hunching. He didn't want to play with any of them. He'd used them all yesterday, tiring out Johnny and Jakes and now he didn't want to play with them anymore.

"I'm bored," he announced.

"Mike you're surrounded by toys," Charlie told him.

"I don't wanna play with any of them," he huffed. "I wanna go with Briggs."

"He's already gone, Mike," Charlie reminded him.

"I don't care, bring him _back_," Mike demanded, stamping his foot before wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He couldn't tell if he wanted to go on this meet with Briggs, or just be with Briggs.

"What's up, baby?" Charlie sighed, leaving her sauce on the lowest possible heat and coming over to him, picking him up slightly against his will and sitting him on the kitchen counter. "What's this about?"

"I don't _know_!" He cried out, burying his face in his hands for a few seconds. "I want Briggs to come back," he whispered, lifting his head and looking at Charlie, tears in his eyes. "Can we go get him?"

"No, sweetie, we can't," Charlie replied, gently stroking back his hair. "I promise he won't be too long though, alright?"

Mike sniffed and nodded, rubbing at his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Can we… can we do something? I don't want… I don't wanna be on my own."

"What do you want to do?" Charlie asked him.

Mike shrugged, rubbing at his nose with the sleeve of his top. "Can we go to the beach?" He asked her.

"Sure we can," she kissed his forehead. "I'm not dressed for the beach though, so just let me go change. Wait here, alright?" Mike nodded and as soon as Charlie left to go upstairs, he slid down off the counter and ran out the door.

* * *

Mike knew he'd be in serious trouble with Charlie. It didn't matter how much he argued and reminded her that he was an adult – he was in essence, a toddler. And he knew that it would be dangerous for a toddler to walk the streets of Southern California alone. But he just _had _to. He had to get away from the house for a while. Get away from Charlie and her mothering. He had to get to Briggs. He couldn't explain it, but he felt like he was physically hurting from the distance. He rubbed at his eyes to get rid of the tears clouding his vision and stomped along the beach.

He didn't even _know_ where Briggs would be. He just knew that he was meeting Lang. Mike frowned at the name. The crazy scientist who changed him into this annoyingly squishy, emotional creature who just wanted to cling to his training officer. He wondered if this time, the man would show up. If by tonight he'd be showering on his own and drinking beers with everybody. If this stupid feeling of anxiety from being away from Briggs would leave him.

He realised he had no idea where he was. Where Briggs could be and how far away he himself was from the house. He started to regret the idea, he knew that if he had just stayed with Charlie, then he would be safe, and Briggs would just come back after a while and tell him what he'd found.

With a huff, he sat down in the sand. He rubbed at his legs, already having seized up from the walking he'd done. He didn't really know where he was, and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not that Charlie might not find him for a while. He gazed out into the ocean, and shivered, wishing he'd put on a jacket. It was still warm, but the sea breezes were a bit colder, and he knew that by dusk it would be even more so.

He wished he'd brought his phone; then he could just call Briggs and ask where he was. He just wanted to be with him. He pulled his arms around his knees and rested his chin on them, feeling his lips wobble.

A sudden bark pulled him from his thoughts, and he stared as B.D bounded towards him, a familiar looking toy in his mouth.

"Lannister!" Mike cried out, holding out his hand as the dog dropped the worn out toy at his feet, looking up at Mike with an almost regretful expression on it's face. He picked it up carefully, seeing the bite marks and chewed limbs, as well as the fact it was soaked with slobber. He took it down to the sea, the stray bounded at his heels and he held the lion toy down so that the waves rolled over it. Now it was well and truly soaked, but after a while, Mike was just glad that it was with sea water and not slobber.

"Thanks, B.D," he murmured, patting the dog's head and holding the sodden toy to himself as he started to walk once more along the beach.

* * *

Briggs waited by the hotel that Manny had pointed him towards. He slid his sunglasses up and leant against a phone booth, hands in pockets. Apparently he'd be able to identify Lang because he wore the same dark overcoat he always wore. When the man stepped out, Briggs stood to attention. The guy looked strangely familiar, but he couldn't place him. Figuring it was just the shaggy beard (quite a few of his male CI's wore their facial hair the same), Briggs pretended to be reading a paper as Lang walked past him. As soon as the man turned the corner, Briggs followed.

He knew that if the guy had always managed to give people the slip on his heat runs, then he must be good at them; and also highly suspicious and paranoid. So rather than dragging it out, Briggs waited until the man walked past an alley and seized his chance. He sped up, grabbed the guys upper arm and pulled him into the alleyway.

"Elliot Lang?"

The guy looked up at him, glaring. "What do you want?"

"I got a few questions about a serum you recently sold to a little known crime boss called Jeremiah Bello?" Briggs said keeping on his toes in case Lang tried to make a run for it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lang spat, trying to leave but getting pushed back.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Briggs said, grabbing hold of him and shoving him against a wall. "Now all I need, is some information. That's it. Then you can go about your business."

"Who are you, man? You're not a cop, that's for sure."

"I just want to know what Bello wants with the serum – and if you have anymore," Briggs told him.

"I gave Bello all of it," Lang huffed out, as Briggs' elbow was dangerously close to his windpipe. Briggs pushed harder. "I swear, man!"

"And what did he want with it?" Lang didn't say anything and Briggs swiped at his legs, throwing him to the floor and kneeling over him, his knee pressing against the scientist's chest. "What. Did. He. Want with it?" With each word he pressed harder.

"I don't know!" Lang ground out. "He said that he wanted something new, a different weapon. And I'd already been working on this! He said he'd pay a lot!"

"And what exactly does the serum _do_?" Briggs pressed. "How does it run it's course?"

"It just, agh!" He winced a Briggs pressed again. "It physically regresses someone! I know it doesn't sound real, but I swear that's what it does, that's what I made it to do! It makes someone younger!"

"What does it do to their mental state?"

"Nothing much, they just get – all my test subjects just had shorter spans of attention and for some reason more adrenaline than most, they never wanted to sit still. And they latched onto a particular person – like a child would with their main caregiver!"

At least that explained Mike's behaviour, Briggs thought. At least he knew it was the serum that was making it impossible to shake Mike off him.

"What happens to people after the serum?" Briggs asked, easing up his knee, causing Lang to groan and wheeze.

"I made an antidote – the serum simply ran it's course with half of my test subjects, but the other half wouldn't turn back without the antidote."

"Where's the antidote?" Briggs snarled, helping Lang to his feet but still keeping a tight hold on both the man's shoulders. "Where?" He shook the man for emphasis.

"I have some back in my lab!" The man cried out, trying to pull away. "Why?"

"Where's your lab?"

"I'm not telling some guy on the street where my lab is!"

"Why not, you already told me everything else." Briggs replied, although thankful that his interrogation had been so easy.

"That's different, all my clients know – Bello knows it." Lang spat.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Briggs looked to the side, seeing someone running towards them – no doubt a Mike Warren-esque Good Samaritan who probably saw the scene and assumed that Briggs was attempting to mug Lang.

"This isn't your concern," Briggs told the woman who was glaring at him. "Leave."

"Hell no, I won't leave – get your hands off him!" She shouted, reaching for Briggs and shoving him roughly, giving him just enough of a distraction for Lang to wriggle out of his grip and sprint away.

Briggs cursed but let him go. He had a bit more information – and he knew there was a cure. And even if he couldn't find the lab or the antidote, there was half a chance that Mike would just… snap out of it.

By this time, more people had arrived, hearing the woman's shout. He couldn't help but wish he could applaud her for her actions, but knew he had to leave the scene quickly, before anything else happened. He easily outran the woman who thought she'd be able to perform a citizen's arrest.

He breathed out harshly, leaning against a wall a good few blocks away. He reached into his pocket to get his phone out, to call the bureau and get them to look for any sign of Lang's lab, before realising he had more than 8 missed calls from Charlie. He instantly called her, already worried and automatically assuming that it was something to do with Mike.

"Chuck, what's with the call abuse?"

"_Mike's disappeared."_

"You mean he's just hiding somewhere in the house?" Briggs asked, frowning.

"_No, he asked to go to the beach, I went to get changed, I came back and he'd disappeared! We looked all over the house but he left, Paul."_ She sounded close to tears, and Briggs frowned, wondering exactly how long Mike had been missing for, and feeling sweat prickle over his back and forehead. _"Paige, me and Johnny have been all over the beach and in the shops, and Jakes is at home in case he goes back," _she added.

"How long's he been gone for, Charlie?" He asked calmly, even though he could feel his heart thudding. He knew that he shouldn't be worrying – Mike was, despite all appearances, a big boy. He had passed top of his class at Quantico and knew how to handle himself. But still - a little kid having vanished from the house... anything could happen.

"_Nearly two hours, Paul. Two hours. I thought maybe he'd found you by now, I thought that's what this was all about. He just wanted to find you."_

"Easy, Charlie," Paul stopped her, hearing her almost beginning to cry. "I'll start looking, alright? Have you checked with hospitals and local PD?"

"_No kids matching his description," _she told him. _"Though there's a BOLO out."_

"Okay, that's good," Briggs said, retracing his steps and walking exactly the way he had arrived to the hotel, hoping to somehow bump into the toddler. "I'll start looking – Charlie, you go back to the house, alright? You're tired and stressed – and you still have sauce to prepare for tonight, right?" He said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"_No, no I need to be out here, I let him outta my sight and now he's gone."_

"Charlie, trust me – we'll find him, alright?" Briggs reasurred her. "But seriously; go back to the house. Paige and Johnny have got this, and I'm looking as well. We'll find him," he repeated, listening as she breathed out slowly.

"_Okay," _she sighed. _"But if you still haven't found him in an hour…"_

"We'll get search dogs, alright? Go get some rest," he persuaded her, feeling relieved when she agreed and hung up. He slid his phone into his pocket and began his search.

* * *

Mike – whilst not exactly having the time of his life – was enjoying himself. He had completely forgotten that everyone would no doubt be worried and looking for him. Instead, he had found a soccer ball in a back street that had been deserted, so he had picked it up, juggling the ball and Lannister (who had now completely dried out but still smelt weird) and wandering the streets a bit more in case the kids who it belonged to found him playing with it and decided to get it back in not-so-nice ways.

He found himself back on the beach, kicking it up and down delightedly and enjoying kicking it into the sea for him to collect afterwards. After splashing around for a while, he realised just how tired he was after his day. He would call it 'exploring' but half of him thought it was more 'acting out'.

So he missed Briggs (and he couldn't believe he would even admit that to himself) – he missed him to the point of it being physically painful, and he had just wanted to find him. Why couldn't he just go out on his own to prove they could all still trust him?

"Hey there."

Mike glanced up, seeing a man stood in front of him. His instincts instantly started telling him that everything was wrong. If nothing else, the guy's disgustingly dirty jacket should have started the alarm bells in his head. Mike didn't say anything, and instead just clutched Lannister tightly to him – the soccer ball still bobbing gently in the waves, waiting to be claimed.

"You uh… you here alone?" The guy almost sounded caring. If he hadn't twitched nervously and rubbed his palms down his trouser legs, Mike would think the guy sounded concerned that he didn't seem to have any kind of parental guidance on the beach. So again he didn't say anything, and just gingerly took a step back.

"Hey, it's okay, buddy," the man said, crouching. "I just want to know that you're not alone. It's dangerous out here, y'know?"

Mike nodded, and flinched when the guy put his hand on his shoulder. "I should go," he finally spoke, slowly moving away. The guy put his hand on his shoulder again, but this time clutched tightly to the point of it hurting.

"Let go!" Mike cried out, pulling back. He panicked and tried to remember his self defence – something which, when he was normal, he could do without even thinking. But being smaller, he couldn't figure out how to hurt the guy or get out of his clutches. "Let go of me!" He hoped someone on the beach could hear, but there weren't many people about. He felt tears start to sting in his eyes, felt snot run down his face as he whipped about wildly.

The man held him steady and grabbed hold of his hand, taking him towards the path at the top of the beach. Mike yanked at his hand, hard, almost sending himself flying as he nearly got his hand out, but the man held firm and Mike started to panic, knowing if he didn't do something fast, he knew it wouldn't end well.

Finally, _something _from Quantico kicked in and he jabbed hard at the back of the guy's knee, causing his leg to buckle and for him to come down low enough for Mike to punch him hard in the crotch. The guy let out a yelp and let go of him, holding himself as if it would stop the pain. Mike fell back, quickly scrambling to his feet and running, panting and sprawling onto the ground as he tripped, feeling a searing pain all the way up his lower leg and knee.

He stayed where he fell, sobbing, before startling as he felt someone grasp him around the middle. He gave a cry and tried to escape but he was pulled tight to the person's chest and no matter how much he fought he couldn't get free.

"Easy, kid, ease up."

He froze.

He knew that voice.

He slowly looked up and saw Briggs clutching at him, resting his face in Mike's hair for a moment and breathing in deeply.

"Briggs," he breathed out, before suddenly feeling the floodgates open and bursting into shocked tears, flinging his arms around the man's neck and hiding his face in Briggs' shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cried shakily.

"You alright?" Briggs asked him, bouncing him to get a reply. "Mike?"

"Uh-huh," Mike nodded, clutching tightly to Briggs. "I'm sorry, please don't leave me, I'll be good, I'll be so good, I'm sorry, don't let him get me," Mike cried, finding it hard to stop crying, so hard was he actually wailing.

"I know," Briggs said. "God, Mikey, I know. It's okay – he's not going to get you," Briggs spat, and Mike actually paused, wondering what had happened to the guy, before deciding that he didn't want to know and kept his face buried in Briggs' safe warmth.

When he felt them going up some stairs after about ten minutes of silent walking, he peeked out, sighing in relief when they got to Graceland.

"Briggs," he began to say, before stopping. There were thousands of things he wanted to say, but now didn't seem the time. Instead, he weakly followed it with, "B.D brought Lannister back," he waved the lion hanging by it's tail in his small fist, somehow miraculously still with him after the altercation.

"I can see that, buddy," Briggs told him. "He needs a wash."

Mike sniffed. "I know," he whispered, before simply dropping the lion on the floor as they walked in.

"Got him," Briggs called out, causing them to hear gasps from various parts of the house. "I've got him," he said wearily, carrying Mike into the main living area, reaching down and picking up Snoopy for Mike nuzzle in to.

"Mike!" Charlie abandoned her sauce that she had soldiered on with and cupped Mike's face. "Are you okay?"

Mike nodded tentatively, causing her to nod back in relief, before her eyes narrowed. "_Never _do that to me ever again, okay? _Never_."

"I won't, I'm so, so sorry," Mike whispered, refusing to let Briggs put him down. Charlie kept watching him as each housemate came over as if checking him over for themselves to see he was still whole and uninjured. Then Briggs pulled him from his grasp and put him on the couch.

"Here's what's going to happen," Briggs said. "You never leave the house again without one of us. Alright?" Mike nodded, never _wanting _to leave the house again. "You eat Charlie's amazing sauce because it's too much of a punishment for you to miss out on that. But literally as soon as it's finished, you're going to bed. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Mike whispered, rubbing at his eyes and pulling Snoopy closer to himself. In doing so, he hissed, having forgotten until then the scrape on his knee. "Briggs?" He said softly. "I… I hurt my knee."

The man knelt and pushed his trouser leg up, wincing at the sight of the broken skin and bloody knee and shin. "Johnny, go grab his pyjamas, would you?" Briggs said, taking Mike's trousers off carefully, smirking as the kid pulled his t-shirt down in order to hide the childish underwear he was wearing. Thankfully, Johnny returned quickly and Mike hastily tugged the cotton material on, so Briggs could easily roll the pants leg up as he wiped at the skin with an antibacterial wipe Charlie had put in his hands.

"I know it stings," Briggs told him. "But it's nothing to what you'd have felt if I hadn't gotten there in time," he dropped the tone of his voice so no one heard. "I won't tell them," he murmured. "They don't need the worry. But I swear, Mike, if you ever do something so stupid again, I'll – "

"I promise, Briggs, I'll never do it again," Mike snivelled, climbing into his arms as soon as Briggs had rolled his pants leg back down.

"Okay – what do you say?" Briggs asked him, slightly patronisingly as he walked him over to the others who were stood in the kitchen, having been murmuring amongst themselves.

"I'm really sorry," Mike said earnestly. "Really. I just thought… I mean, I'm not really a little kid, and – "

"Yes you are," Charlie suddenly said softly. "You always were. And it's our job to look after the rookie."

"Yeah, Mikey," Johnny said leaning next to Charlie. "Can't let Briggs lose the baby of the house."

Mike snorted wetly and rubbed at his eyes. A timer went off to the right of him, making him jump and turn to see it was Charlie's sauce timer.

"Okay, kiddos," Charlie said, turning the timer off and quickly turning the stove off and giving the sauce a quick stir. "Now that everyone's finally here," she looked at Mike, chucking his chin fondly. "Let's eat! Grab a plate, line up, et cetera, et cetera."

"Hey, shortstack, you can go first," Johnny said magnanimously as Charlie picked up a bowl and ladled a generous helping of spaghetti onto it.

"Don't call me that!" Mike whined, reaching for his bowl as Charlie finished pouring sauce, only to have it seized by Briggs, who in turn placed him on the floor. "Hey!"

"Put the cheese on, kid," Briggs said, holding the hot plate low for Mike to grab a handful from the bowl of grated cheese waiting for each of them. Mike sprinkled a generous handful before being grabbed around the middle by Briggs and placed at the table, his bowl in front of him.

"Okay – don't hate me for this, alright?" Paul said, sighing as Charlie threw something at him. He grabbed it before it hit the ground and turned to look at Mike. "I just know that even on his best days Johnny sucks with co-ordination," he paused as Johnny threw a towel at him. "And he has bigger hands than you right now. So, uh. Just work with me, alright?" With that, before Mike knew what was happening, Briggs pulled a soft, flannel bib around his neck and made sure it was fastened properly before walking back to grab his own food.

"Briggs!" Mike wailed, trying to untie it but being unable to. "Take it off!"

"I'll make you a deal, Mike," Briggs said from his place by the kitchen counter. "If that bib remains pristine for the whole meal, at no point ever again will I make you wear it. Hell, we can burn it if you want."

Mike glared at him and looked back at his food, sticking his fork in it just as Johnny sat down. "I'll pay you ten bucks if you throw this bib away," Mike told him. Johnny snorted at him.

"Do I look suicidal? Besides, you look adorable, Mikey," he teased, pulling Mike into a one-armed hug. Mike shoved him away and grabbed his fork again, glaring at his food.

"Hey, did I spend 3 days on this sauce just so you could scowl at it? Eat," Charlie said from the kitchen, as she poured sauce on her portion of spaghetti.

Mike began to eat, having not yet sampled the sauce, and could indeed say afterwards that it was one of the best things he'd ever had the pleasure of eating. However, he realised pretty early on during the meal that the bib _may _have been a good move. It looked unsalvageable, and he knew he had sauce all over his face as well. He tried not to draw attention to the fact, but he knew that everyone could see.

As soon as he put his cutlery down, Briggs stood up, grabbing him around the waist and sitting him next to the sink, carefully removing the bib and wiping at his face.

"I'm not a baby!" Mike protested, batting him away but soon just stayed still and let Briggs do whatever he wanted. "Briggs," he said quietly. "Could you… can you maybe… Will you stay with me?" He asked, blushing brightly. "Just til I fall asleep? Please?"

"Sure," Briggs said, sounding slightly confused. "Okay, go upstairs and get ready and then I'll go up, okay?" Mike nodded and was placed on the floor so he could go and wait for Briggs to come up.

As soon as he was gone, everyone started talking at once.

"Okay, Paul – what's the deal?"

"Where was he?"

"What was he doing?"

"Why was he so upset?"

"What happened?"

"Alright, alright!" Briggs held up his hands. "Take it easy. I was walking back here and found him on the beach. That's it."

"Bullshit," Charlie said. "Why was he so upset?"

"He just fell over," Briggs rolled his eyes. "It happens, kids are clumsy. You saw his knee. Apparently he was playing with that dog and he took a tumble. He just felt guilty mainly, that's why he was so upset." He held the gazes of his roommates, before they all decided to believe him. "No more questions," Briggs said. "I gotta go tuck him in."

* * *

"Can you put my lamp on?" Mike asked quietly, relaxing as Briggs just went over to it and switched it on before turning the main light off.

"C'mon, Mike – I have stuff of my own to do and you won't fall asleep until you try, so…" Briggs gestured to the bed, and Mike snuggled down, pulling the duvet close to him and cuddling Snoopy. "I'm surprised you don't want Lannister back."

"He smells," Mike scrunched up his nose. "And… you got me Snoopy." He blushed and wouldn't add anything, closing his eyes. "Will you talk?"

"About what?" Briggs asked. Sitting back on the bed by Mike's feet, watching him.

"Anything," Mike said softly.

"Okay. How about this – once upon a time," he began, grinning when Mike instantly started to relax. "There was a little boy called… Adam," he said quietly. "His family were very poor, and they had to take up lots of jobs so that they could get by. One night, his Dad got in trouble with a bad man. Said that he would hurt Adam if he didn't get the money that Adam's dad took from him. So the police took Adam away, and into a special house, for special police to look after him until it was safe."

"What happened to him?" Mike asked groggily.

"Well the police officer became really great friends with Adam," Briggs continued, looking down at his lap. "And Adam really started to like living there. But one day, the police officer left the door open, because they were thinking of going for a walk. But Adam went on his own."

"Like me," Mike whispered, slightly guiltily.

"Like all naughty boys," Briggs clarified, looking sternly at Mike, who simply started to suck his thumb. "And he was found by the bad man who wanted money from Adam's dad. So they stole him to get the money."

"And the police officer saved him, right?" Mike asked, listing off to the side.

"Yeah, Mikey. The police officer saved him," Briggs said hollowly. "And they all lived happily ever after. Go to sleep now, okay?" Mike was already out for the count, and Briggs rubbed at his face, wishing the end of the story had been the truth.

* * *

**A/N Hope you enjoyed, please do tell me what you thought :)  
**

**Oh, and here's what I imagine Snoopy to look like (just in case you were interested):  
jollysofttoys. co . uk / images / 013025. jpg  
As always, just delete the spaces :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Hey guys :) Really, really appreciate the reviews (even though there are less than usual, and I really hope it's not something I've done writing-wise) and I hope everyone continues to enjoy this story :D**

* * *

_Mike held his hands up, breathing heavily and staring down the barrel of the gun pointed at him. He could feel his hands shaking, knew that there must be some sort of lip wobbling happening, could feel his eyes tearing up. These would all indicate he wasn't a soldier. That he had never seen battle before. He couldn't have his cover blown._

_But then the gun turned, slotting straight into Eddie's mouth as the man pulled the trigger, blood and brain matter exploding out of the back of his head. Mike cried out, as if he could stop him, but he was way too late. He heard the splatter as the discharged membrane and organs hit the floor._

_He couldn't move his head, couldn't close his eyes or even blink – could only continue to stare at the red mess as Eddie fell back in it, a dull thump twinned with a squish as the mutilated back of his head hit the floor._

* * *

Mike leapt awake with a cry, breathing heavily and curling his arms around his knees, burying his face in them. He'd been having nightmares about Eddie ever since it had happened; it was only a matter of time before he had them now. He found that now, however, he couldn't turn his mind off. All he could see was the blood splatter. He ran to his en-suite, clambering onto the box he had pulled over so he could easily reach the toilet and vomiting. He choked and started shaking, wiping at his forehead. He felt warm, but he didn't know if that was just because he'd been asleep, or if he had worked himself up. Which he had, but he didn't agree with himself that it was the cause.

When he could see straight he closed the toilet lid and sat on it, rubbing at his eyes and breathing slowly. The more he thought about it, the sicker he felt. He gave a small sob and rocked back and forth slightly, feeling how damp he was from sweat.

He flushed a deep, dark red when realising that sweat was only half the problem, and quickly tugged his pyjamas off, climbing up to his sink to wet a face cloth that he vowed to incinerate afterwards, and started to clean himself up.

He tried to rationalise it; tried to convince himself that it was okay, he was sure lots of 3/4 year olds had that problem. And it must have been because he wasn't feeling well. Or because of his nightmare. He sighed and sloped back to his room, grabbing his other pair of pyjamas (with a robot stamped on the front) and pulling them on. He then paused, unsure of what to do. He felt too sick to pull the sheets off his bed, but wanted to wash the evidence away. As soon as he got them in the washer it'd be fine – he'd be able to claim he'd wanted to wash them because he was too sweaty. But he didn't have the energy. He'd need to get someone else to do it for him.

He sat on his floor and put his head in his hands. He didn't want to tell anyone, it was already embarrassing enough just knowing that he'd done it. But he felt so drained. He thought that if someone were to just walk in at that moment and change his bedding and put him back to bed, he wouldn't mind. He'd actually quite like it.

There was a stumbling sound outside his room but he just didn't care anymore. They could walk in on him right now and he'd just wait there for them to pick him up and moving him to wherever they wanted.

The door creaked slightly as it was pushed open, but he kept his head in his hands, not having the energy to lift up his head and see who it was.

"Mike?" It was Paige, and she was speaking so softly, he wondered if he was still asleep. "What's wrong?"

He could smell the alcohol, knew that she had been drinking, but also knew that she handled her alcohol well. But even so, he didn't want to be around anyone even slightly impaired right now.

He knew exactly who he wanted to be around.

"What's wrong?" She asked again, kneeling by him gently, resting a hand in his hair and teasing the strands through her finger tips. "Huh?"

"Don't feel well," he whispered, feeling himself lean into her, not being able to stop; it was almost as if gravity had shifted just to make him feel even worse.

"You want some help getting back in bed?" She asked quietly.

Mike felt his stomach recoil at the idea of getting into the bed he had yet to clean up. "No," he whispered, which even then took a lot out of him. But he didn't want to shake his head and cause dizziness – that he was pretty sure was just waiting to strike – to set in.

"You want to sit downstairs?" She asked. "It's late, but I think maybe Johnny might still be up."

Mike didn't think staying around Johnny right now was a good idea – all he wanted was to be still and not think, and Johnny wasn't the best at silence.

"You want me to fetch Briggs?" She asked, teasing her finger under his chin and managing to push it up so she could look at his face. He knew there were tears pooling in his eyes, and that his lips were wobbling, and also knew that he was more than likely incredibly pale. "Oh, Mike," she wiped a tear off his face. "You don't look too well. Okay, wait here, I'll go get Briggs."

She disappeared, and Mike was left alone, his bathroom door swinging shut which meant that the light that had been streaming in was now cut off and he was in the dark. He gave another small sob and started shaking, wanting to get out but not having the energy.

Suddenly, he heard quick, anxious footsteps and Paige came back with Briggs in tow. The man knelt down in front of him. "Paige, will you turn on his lamp?" Briggs asked – he had turned it off after Mike fell asleep that night. She did as he said and the warm glow stopped Mike's more desperate shakes. He still trembled as Briggs carefully cupped his cheek, stroking the bone with his thumb.

"What's up, Mike?"

Mike gave a small sob and he was slowly lifted up to be cradled against Briggs' chest. He sniffed and gave a small whimper, being soothed as the man shushed him and rubbed his head.

"He said he doesn't feel well," Paige supplied, seeing the strip of light under the door in the bathroom and walking in, wrinkling her nose. "He's been sick," she informed him. "And…" she trailed off and Mike closed his eyes. He'd left his wet pyjamas on the floor in there. Anyone with half a brain would realise what had happened.

"And?" Briggs asked, standing up and carefully moving Mike so they were chest to chest.

"Nothing," Paige shook her head, walking back in and sparing a minute glance towards the bed. "I'm going to bed, Paul, you got this?" He nodded and she pressed a kiss to Mike's hair before leaving.

He kept his eyes closed and only felt movement, but felt it when they stepped out into the slightly cooler corridor and he gave a small sigh of relief. He had been hoping they would just slowly walk to Briggs' own room, but frowned when he felt the steady movement of them going downstairs.

"Briggs," he whispered. "Please…"

"Please what, Mikey?" Briggs replied equally quietly. "What do you want?"

Mike shrugged, a small sob escaping his lips. He knew exactly what he wanted but was too embarrassed to say. He wanted to be taken back to Briggs' room, to be held and kept safe as he slowly started to fall asleep and hope that he would feel better in the morning.

"I…" he started, sighing. "I just wanna sleep."

"I know you do, buddy," Briggs replied, patting his back softly. "Yo, J.T," he said in a low voice. Mike blearily turned his head to see that Johnny was watching TV. The man turned, slightly confused as to why Briggs felt the need to be quiet, but instantly muted the TV and leapt up.

"What's wrong with the rookie?"

"He's not feeling so hot." Briggs told him.

"Feeling plenty hot," Mike murmured, closing his eyes again and lethargically resting his head against Briggs' chest once more. Briggs opened a cupboard and found a pack of new washcloths and opened it, wetting one and laying it on his head. Mike gave an almost purr and went completely boneless, trusting that Briggs would do all the hard work.

"He's sick?"

"Your powers of observation astound me, Johnny," Briggs said, focussing on Mike. "Sit rep, Mikey – what's hurting?"

"Feel sick," he mumbled. "Dizzy. Tired. Hot."

"Think you'd be able to keep some water down?" Briggs asked, already taking some out of the fridge and unscrewing the cap of the bottle. Mike opened his mouth like a baby bird and started sipping when Briggs put the lid to his mouth. After a few mouthfuls Briggs pulled it away and put the cap back on.

"You want me to get Charlie?" Johnny asked, fidgeting awkwardly.

"Nah, man, I'll have him in with me tonight," Briggs said, before patting Mike's back. "C'mon, kid, let's go to bed."

"Feel better, Mikey!" Johnny called after them. Briggs took him back upstairs, water bottle in hand, and turned a lamp on in his room when they got in there. He put the bottle on a night stand and slowly removed Mike from his chest, laying him down on the bed. Mike curled up into a ball as soon as he was put down on. He felt the covers get pulled over him and pushed them off with his feet. He heard Briggs sigh but kept his eyes closed, feeling them almost roll up as he started to fall asleep.

"I've got a bucket over by your side," Briggs said softly, and Mike felt the bed dip as the older man joined him. "And I've just put fresh water on this cloth," Mike felt it reappear on his forehead and shivered, before feeling a droplet leave the cloth and start to run down his face. He took it off, even though his whole body was pleading for the relief it offered. "What's wrong?" Briggs asked, feeling Mike's skin, wondering if he was warm enough to be hallucinating or having mood shifts.

"I'll be fine," he whispered, refusing to say that the reason he didn't want it on was because he was worried it would make him wet the bed. And he still needed to wash his sheets. This thought – that Paige had already seen and that he would need to work fast in case everyone else found out – just caused him to tear up, rolling over and planting his sweaty forehead in Briggs' chest, shuddering in silent sobs.

"I've got you, Mikey," Briggs sighed, rubbing his back. "I've got you."

* * *

Mike's eyes flickered open to see blurry figures stood by the bed. He blinked a few times to make them clear up, and partly recognised them by their legs, and then voices.

"Should we take him to a doctor?" That was Paige.

"I don't know, he's been asleep for a while now," Briggs. "He kept waking up with nightmares and he was really warm." Mike frowned – he couldn't even remember waking up with nightmares. The last thing he remembered was being placed in Briggs' bed, praying that he wouldn't wet it.

"Is he still hot?" Charlie asked. Mike closed his eyes as Briggs moved and felt his hand feeling his head.

"He's cooler than he was last night. I don't know what this is, but maybe the fever broke when he finally fell asleep?"

Mike – as lethargic and shaky as he felt – couldn't continue feigning sleep. He didn't want them all to just leave him alone, thinking he'd be better off sleeping on his own so that no one would wake him. He opened his eyes again and struggled to sit up, rubbing at his face and brushing dampness from his brow.

"Hey, sleeping beauty awakens," Briggs said, only half-teasingly. "How d'you feel?"

Mike yawned before answering. "Okay. I don't feel as hot now."

"That's good," Briggs said, putting the back of his hand to Mike's forehead. "Still feel sick?"

Mike nodded. "Only a little."

"Yeah, you probably threw everything up last night."

"I threw up?" Mike frowned.

"Yeah, you don't remember?" Briggs asked, glancing back at Charlie.

"I remember waking up in my bed and throwing up. But last I remember, I fell asleep here when you brought me back from the kitchen."

"You woke up quite a few times in the night," Briggs told him. "Threw up every time. Told me there was someone standing at the foot of the bed, sweated enough to make it look like it had rained on your side of the bed and then passed out for another half hour before repeating."

"And you probably scarred Briggs for life during it all," Paige joked, a small smirk on her face. "Especially the 'person at the foot of the bed' thing."

"You think you can come downstairs?" Charlie asked, sitting on the bed and stroking his damp hair away from his face. "I made chicken soup." Mike pulled a face and she glared at him. "You will eat it and you will enjoy it, Michael," she said firmly. "Now, I've already told Paul that you're not leaving the house today, and that you'd be more comfortable in your pyjamas. But since both pairs are soaked through, I sent Johnny out to buy you some more."

"You sent _Johnny_?" Mike whined. He closed his eyes and laid back down as Charlie offered him his new pyjamas which were – as Briggs had predicted the first night – Elmo themed.

"Cheer up, it could be worse," Briggs offered.

"How?" Mike asked morosely, glaring at the pyjamas whilst also worrying if Charlie knew the reason why his first pair of pyjamas were 'soaked through'.

"You could be wearing a onesie," Briggs reminded him. "Okay – let's get you changed and then we can downstairs for some of Charlie's special soup."

"Stop patronising me," Mike mumbled tiredly, slowly moving out of the den he had created for himself to grab the new (but already much hated) pyjamas.

"Would you guys give us a minute?" Briggs asked the other two.

"We'll see you downstairs," Charlie confirmed, as she and Paige left. As soon as the door shut, Briggs turned to Mike, sitting on the bed and looking him in the eyes.

"Okay – first off, just know that no one cares, alright? I get that you were sick. Okay? So don't worry about it, and I get that you're only small so Charlie says it's a miracle it only just happened."

"Uh…" Mike frowned, incredibly confused. "It's a miracle _what _only just happened?"

"You think I didn't notice you were wearing different pyjamas when I got you from your room?" Briggs asked, a smirk playing on his lip.

"Oh." Mike said, flushing a deep red. "That."

"Charlie's washing your pyjamas and sheets, and we'll throw these ones in after," Briggs told him.

"Wait, I – it happened here?" Mike could swear his voice was even higher than normal.

Briggs waved it off. "You were really out of it, and I think I made the cloth on your head too wet."

"That doesn't make it any better," Mike mumbled, playing with his toes to avoid looking at Briggs.

"I know. Look, if you really want to torture yourself over it, do it when you're feeling better, okay?"

Mike sighed but nodded, still red. He moved to get off the bed but stopped as the room started spinning – not as dramatically as it had been during the night, but he still didn't want to move.

"Need some help?" Briggs offered. Mike nodded slowly, zoning out while Briggs took his pyjamas top off, replacing it with the bright red Elmo one. "You, uh… you good for this next bit?"

Mike sighed and slid off the bed, knowing he would rather put up with shakiness and dizziness than have Briggs change him completely. He slowly made his way to Briggs' bathroom and went to the toilet before tugging the new bottoms on. He breathed out as he straightened and put a hand on the wall to steady himself.

"Mike?"

"I'm good," he managed. "Just… just dizzy."

Briggs opened the door, picking him up and encouraging him to rest his head and close his eyes. He grabbed a throw from the corner of his room and made a quick pit stop at Mike's room so the kid could shakily pick Snoopy up, before making his way downstairs, laying Mike on the couch and covering him in the throw, which he immediately buried into, twisting slightly before the whole process became too much effort and he flopped down, cuddling the toy dog to himself.

He snorted when Briggs turned the tv on and put it on a low volume, swapping channels until he found one having a classic cartoon marathon. Ignoring Mike's glare, he left it on, and Mike found himself drifting – half asleep and half watching Scooby Doo.

"You want a drink, Mikey?" Charlie asked him after interrogating Briggs quietly in the kitchen. "Mike?" Briggs leant slightly to look at him and smirked.

"He's out of it. Make one anyway and we can put it in the fridge so when he wants a cold drink there's one there."

"What do you think it is?" Paige asked, leaning against the counter, watching Mike.

"I don't think it's the serum," Briggs said. "Lang didn't mention illness. So either it comes with the whole getting over it stage, or he just got sick. Kids get sick, it happens. And he does seem to be getting better."

Charlie hummed, raising an eyebrow as she put a water bottle of juice in the fridge. "Do you have anymore meets today, or are you staying with the kid?" Charlie asked, in an accusatory tone.

"No, I don't, I have people looking for Lang's lab, and what's with the tone?" Briggs asked, crossing his arms.

"I just think you shouldn't have said anything to him about me cleaning his sheets or clothes," Charlie said in a low voice. "What, you think he needs more embarrassment?"

Paul didn't even question how she knew he had mentioned it to Mike. "I was telling him _not _to be embarrassed – and really, is this what we're arguing about?" Briggs raised an eyebrow. "There's something else going on here, Charlie. You blaming me for him getting sick?"

"Of course not!" She snapped, as Paige withdrew, unable to stand the awkward tension. "Maybe I'm _blaming _you for not locking the back door after you left yesterday, because we _always _lock that door if we leave through it, and _that's _the door he left through!" She hissed.

"No way, Charlie – you are _not _pinning this on me," Briggs snarled. "_You're _the one who took your eyes off him – _you're _the one who let him get lost all day and nearly get kidnapped by some probable registered sex offender!"

"_You're _the one who should know better!" Charlie replied, obviously assuming what he had said was a hypothetical scenario to drive his point home. "You got Adam kidnapped and killed and you're going to do the same to Mike!"

Tension seemed to reach an all time high and both parties were breathing raggedly.

"Paul, I – "

"No, Charlie, you're right. I did let Adam get killed – and do you not think that that thought haunts me every minute of every day? But I am damn sure not going to let Mike suffer the same thing."

"I know, I'm sorry," Charlie almost wilted. "I didn't mean that. I just… I let him get lost and anything could have happened to him," she said weakly, a hand going to her mouth, tears stirring in her eyes. "It was my fault – I nearly had my own Adam if you hadn't found him. Paul I'm so sorry, I really didn't - "

"Shh, Charlie," Briggs said, pulling her into a small hug. "I know… I know. I'm sorry too. We're both to blame. And when he's feeling better, junior will be given a talking to as well."

Charlie gave a small laugh and rubbed at her eyes, pulling away from Briggs, just as they heard a small, weak voice from the couch. "Guys?"

"Yeah, honey?" Charlie replied.

"I think I – " He started to swallow desperately, before promptly vomiting all over the rug.

* * *

"How's the kid?" Jakes asked, ambling into the living room. He saw Briggs lounging on the couch, one arm up on the top with his hand trailing down, gently running his fingers through Mike's hair. The kid himself was still curled up, the throw bundled around him, his head resting on Briggs' lap. His face was pale and he sucked his thumb in abandon. "Not good, huh?"

"He's better than he was," Briggs replied, resting his hand on Mike's head for a moment, thumbing small, sweaty curls of hair out of the way. "But he's not great. He's barely moved all day."

"You been keeping up with the liquids?" Jakes asked, walking to the kitchen and starting to make a sandwich for himself.

"Yup. Different juices, herbal teas. Every vitamin under the sun. He'll get better," Briggs said. "It just might not be til tomorrow."

Mike sighed, curling his arm so that he clutched Snoopy tighter to him, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose on Briggs' trousers. Briggs started teasing sweaty strands of hair through his fingers again, causing Mike to breathe out and relax.

"Briggs, you still up for the Drop tonight?" Johnny asked him, bouncing down the stairs. "I know Mike's sick, but you said the other day you'd introduce me to your hot Taibo friends, _and _you owe me a round of drinks."

"No can do, Johnny," Briggs shook his head. "Another time, alright? I'll owe you two rounds."

"I'm gonna hold you to that!" Johnny said, pointing at him and slapping Jakes on the back. "You're still up for the Drop, right?"

"Yeah, I've got nothing else to do. I don't want to hang around a sick kid all night – no offence, Levi."

The kid gave a listless shrug and the only time he showed any signs of life was when Briggs tried to move him so he could get up and grab something to eat.

"No, Briggs," he whined, clutching onto the man with a shaky fist.

"I need to eat, Mike," Briggs told him. "And so do you."

"Not hungry." He mumbled.

"Charlie made chicken soup just for you," Briggs told him. "You know what'll happen if she gets back and you haven't eaten it?"

Johnny whistled. "There'll be hell to pay," he warned Mike, before dragging Jakes to the door. "Feel better, Mikey!" He yelled as it shut.

Mike sat up and pouted at Briggs, causing the man to just laugh at him. "Nice try, kiddo. C'mon." He picked Mike up and kept him on one hip as he reheated the soup, pouring some into a bowl for Mike and putting it on the table, sitting down and letting Mike stay on his lap.

Mike huffed and leant his head back. He _was _starting to feel better than he had that morning, but everything felt like so much _effort_. He didn't even complain when Briggs tied the (newly washed) bib around his neck.

"I promise I won't do this for every meal," he joked. "But I think you've got more of a risk factor right now."

Mike sighed and reached for the spoon, eating one small mouthful and carefully putting it back down, waiting to see if his stomach would rebel before trying any more.

"Paul, is he eating?" Charlie walked into the room, looking worried.

"Don't worry, Chuck, I've got this," Briggs told her. "He's eating fine. We've just started, give him a chance."

"Sorry, Charlie," Mike whispered. "I'm trying."

"I know you are, Mikey," Charlie said, sitting next to Briggs and kissing his head. "It's okay. Just eat what you can. If you're no better tomorrow we can take you to the doctors."

"I don't wanna go to the doctors," Mike frowned, carefully sampling another bite. "I feel better," he told her, scowling at her condescending smile. "Honest!"

"I'm glad," she shushed him, putting a hand on his head. "Keep eating." They lapsed into silence and soon Mike was scraping the bowl, letting the spoon fall from his hand and putting his thumb back in his mouth, happy to simply sit there as Briggs and Charlie talked quietly.

The ringing of a phone cut through the silence and Briggs sighed when he felt Mike leap awake slightly at the sudden sound. He dug into his pants pocket and answered.

"Hello?"

"_Agent Briggs? We've found a possible location for Dr. Lang's lab."_

"Possible?" Briggs questioned, nodding at Charlie as she held her arms out in permission to take Mike off his lap. With little to no struggle she managed it, as Brigg stood up to wander as he talked.

"_There are three different addresses all with different names on the lease but are matches to alias' he's used in the past."_

"What are the addresses?"

"_64 Beverly Drive, 17 Lake Avenue and 23 Soto Street."_

"It's Soto Street," Briggs said straight away, rubbing a hand down his face.

"_How can you be sure?"_

"Just… trust me, alright? It'll be Soto Street. Get a TAC team ready and we'll go in tomorrow."

"_Yes, sir. We'll send you details of where command will be."_

Briggs hung up, grabbing a bottle of rum and pouring two fingers into a glass, drinking it in one.

"Paul," Charlie hissed. "We have a sick kid and you're drinking?"

"Needs must, Charlie," Briggs said. "And one mouthful isn't going to harm anyone."

"Who was on the phone?" She asked, rubbing Mike's back to make him fall asleep, clutching onto her hair.

"They found his lab," he said in a hollow voice. "We're going in tomorrow; hopefully we can find more of the serum, or the antidote."

"Well that's good," she said, looking at his face.

"Yeah. Yeah it is," he tiredly rubbing over his eyes before looking at his watch. "I'm going to put him to bed, okay?"

She frowned but let him go, passing Mike back to him. "I put the new sheets on, he shouldn't need to change pyjamas, his temperature's been down all of today."

"I know, Charlie, I was here," he told her, turning to leave before she took hold of his arm.

"What are you leaving out?" She asked him

"Nothing," he told her, wrenching his arm away, making Mike whimper. "Easy, buddy," he patted his back. "Can I go now?"

She nodded, staring after him as he went.

* * *

"Okay, buddy, there we go," Briggs murmured, placing Mike on his bed, quickly moving Snoopy to fill up the now empty space in Mike's arms. "There we go… How do you feel?" He asked, pushing Mike's hair off his forehead.

"Bit better," Mike said. "Don't feel sick or dizzy anymore."

"That's good," Briggs told him.

"Just tired. Really tired," Mike mumbled, eyes already closed.

"Just sleep, Mike," Briggs told him, turning the lamp on and leaving it on. "I'll put a bucket next to you just in case, alright? And remember – if you need anything, I'm only right down the hall. Got it?"

"I know," Mike said, a small smile on his face. "Stop mother henning and let me sleep."

Briggs snorted. "Alright. Night, kiddo."

He left the door open as he walked out, looking back in to see Mike curled up, his face nuzzling Snoopy's fur.

* * *

**A/N Don't worry, the plot will be revealed (I still can't believe I HAVE plot) and everything will be explained. Brownie promise. But yeah - please review and tell me your thoughts, I really like knowing what you think :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Guys you have no idea how awful I feel after not updating this in so long. I've had no internet for ages and then I've had uni work and job work and it's all kinda piling up, so please excuse the lateness of this. Just remember that I NEVER abandon stories (I've only ever done it with 2 and it's been fandoms I fell out of love with) and this WILL be completed, so don't worry. I've just had a lot to do recently. So, yeah. Saying that - I really hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

Briggs yawned as he sat up in bed. For once he'd actually set an alarm, knowing he needed to be alert for their bust of Lang's warehouse that afternoon. He felt like something was missing, before realising that Mike was probably still asleep. It had only been just over three days, but it felt weird that he wasn't being woken up by a small boy who just wanted to play with someone.

Although the kid hadn't been well the day before, so he was probably still sleeping it off. Briggs left him for the time being and lit some incense, deciding that he hadn't meditated in quite a long time. He breathed slowly, the smell of the incense finally wafting through his room and felt calmer than he had in what felt like months. He remembered what it had been like when Adam had been under his protection. It was when he was still living at the Estate, and everyone had always been too wrapped up in their own cases to help him. Lisa helped when she could – he often thought about what she would be like as a mother…

But it was hectic, he always had to keep the kid entertained and fed, and made sure he went to sleep at the right time. He was glad everyone in Graceland was helping out with Mike – and it helped that for the majority of the time, Mike was an adult in mind. He had yet to get arguments over bedtime, or to stop playing. And there hadn't been tantrums yet, and Briggs could remember some spectacular ones with Adam.

But that was all over with now. He put it back in the deepest recesses of his mind. Focussing on Mike instead actually took his mind off everything that happened, so he thought about how he would keep the kid entertained until he had to go for the bust that afternoon.

He wondered how he would feel if they found an antidote today, and it was all over that night. He wondered if he would still be able to put Adam out of his mind whilst looking out for Mike. Or if the kid would just shun him – Briggs wouldn't blame him; the whole situation must be as embarrassing as hell for him.

He finally realised he'd been meditating and thinking for close to an hour, and so got up and had a quick shower before quietly opening Mike's door, checking in on the kid. He wasn't in bed, and Briggs quickly checked the bathroom to make sure he hadn't relapsed overnight and choked on his own vomit. Upon finding it empty (and pleasantly not smelling of sick) he headed downstairs, finding Mike surrounded by blocks that he was making into some sort of cityscape.

"Morning, Mike," Briggs said casually, walking over to the kitchen to make some coffee for himself. "How do you feel?"

"Okay," he replied, getting up and pulling Snoopy to himself before walking over, holding his arms out. Briggs frowned slightly but picked the kid up and rested him on one hip. Mike put his cheek on Briggs' shoulder, closing his eyes. He'd woken later than he expected and still felt wobbly from the day before. However, he hadn't wanted to annoy Briggs by climbing into his bed, so had shakily made his way downstairs, trying to distract himself by the all too apparent separation he felt with the toys that were slowly starting to migrate through the house and spilling out of the living area and onto the kitchen floor, the stairs and everywhere else it could be dangerous for them to be.

But even though he'd tried hard not to cling to Briggs, as soon as he saw the man, he couldn't help it. He needed the closeness that made him feel so safe – especially since Briggs was going on a hopefully successful bust of Lang's lab. If that was the case, he wanted to have his affection now – while he still craved it and could still get it.

"You sure you're okay?" Briggs checked, sipping at his coffee.

"Still a bit tired," Mike shrugged, his legs making small movements as if he was trying to climb his way up Briggs' body.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" Briggs asked him, opening the fridge and looking through.

"Can I have French toast?" Mike asked.

"Maybe another time, kiddo," Briggs replied. "How about…" he looked in a few cupboards, realising Charlie had gone shopping for some kid friendly food. He sighed, not having a clue what to give Mike, before the kid just pointed at something, bouncing to get his point across that he _really _wanted it.

"Pop tarts?" Briggs questioned, raising an eyebrow. He looked down to see Mike nodding eagerly, his eyes wide and pleading, tugging at Briggs' shirt. "Alright, alright," he sighed and grabbed the box, opening it and putting two in the toaster. It didn't take long before they popped up and he put them on a plate, taking Mike back over to his blocks and managing to dislodge the kid from his hip, putting the plate on the coffee table.

"Thanks, Briggs," Mike said, eating them quickly and getting sticky hands all over his blocks.

"Promise me you won't get high off the sugar and wreck the joint," Briggs said, only half joking. Mike gave him an innocent smile that made him snort and he watched as the kid stacked more blocks before sitting back, bored. Briggs was about to suggest that he go get dressed and they could go to the beach for a while, but Mike had other plans.

He went to the bottom of the box that had mostly been emptied and had it's contents spread everywhere, and pulled out a few books, toddling back to where Briggs was lounging before sorting through them and putting a handful down on the floor, finally putting one on the man's lap, before climbing onto the couch to sit with him.

They sat in silence for a few seconds before Mike opened the book, looking up at Briggs significantly.

"You want me to read to you?" Paul asked, frowning. Mike nodded slightly shyly but put a finger on the first word, glancing up at Paul. "Why?"

"Cause…" Mike mumbled, glancing down at his lap.

"You're not getting away with it that easily, kid – spill," Briggs demanded, genuinely curious to find out why Mike was so insistent on having him read out loud.

"Cause," Mike said in an incredibly quiet voice. "I wanna read it."

"Well how about _you _read it and I'll listen?" Briggs said, not really sold on the idea of reading a kid's book aloud.

"I can't," Mike whispered, flushing. "I can't… I can't read it."

"Wait like… at all?"

Mike turned back to the front page and put his small index finger on the first word of the title. "That's… that's a 'g', right?" He asked, sounding as if he was desperate to be told he was right. "And… and that's an 'r' but I… I can't figure out what the rest of it says."

Briggs put a hand on Mike's head, as he could tell that the small boy was getting frustrated and upset with himself. "It's okay, kiddo. It's no big deal. It's pretty obvious you could read before all this," Mike gave a small giggle. "It's just because you're a kid."

"What does…?" Mike swallowed slightly. "What does it say?"

"Sound it out with me, kiddo," Briggs said, moving Mike's finger along the letters. "If you know that this so far is a 'g' and an 'r'…" He waited patiently as Mike sounded it out slowly. "And if I told you this one was an 'e'?"

Mike followed along the rest of the word. "So's that one," he stabbed at the next letter. "You know what this one is?" Briggs asked, showing him the last letter.

"Uh…" Mike was thinking hard but flushed. "No."

"That's okay," Briggs soothed. "If I told you it was an 'n'?" He could see Mike mouthing the letters, his brain working overtime before it finally clicked.

"Green!" Mike said excitedly. "It's 'Green Eggs and Ham'!" He looked delighted, and Paul's heart ached for just how proud he was of himself.

"You picked that up fast," Briggs grinned, turning to the first page again. He had thought he'd have to painstakingly go through each letter of the title with the toddler.

Mike shrugged. "I guessed from the picture it was Dr. Seuss," he explained.

"Well you did good," Briggs reassured him. "You want me to start?"

Mike nodded and slowly started to follow the story with his index finger, stopping Briggs to ask questions and announce what the picture on that particular page was. Briggs grinned as he read, feeling privately proud that the kid seemed to be immersed in the story.

After a while, and they had moved on from Dr Seuss to Winnie the Pooh, Briggs froze, hearing movement and chatter at the top of the stairs. Mike glanced up at him, wondering why he had stopped reading.

_Get it together,_ Briggs forced himself. _You're just entertaining the kid._

He continued, and Mike relaxed, again tracing the words with his finger. Johnny and Paige were coming downstairs, arguing playfully before stopping as they saw Briggs and Mike. After a few seconds, Paige pulled herself together and sat next to them.

"What're you doing?" She asked, looking genuinely interested.

"Reading," Mike said. "And we've already read Green Eggs and Ham, and… and Where the Wild Things Are, and now we're reading Winnie the Pooh and Briggs is doing the voices," he announced, looking very pleased with himself.

"You're doing the voices?" Johnny asked, sitting cross-legged in front of him and staring at the man intently.

"Well I wouldn't say I was doing voices, but the kid needs to know which character said what," Briggs shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

"What, like he's not reading along as you're doing it?" Paige smirked. Mike shuffled slightly closer to Briggs and put his thumb in his mouth, causing Paul to look down and start reading again.

It wasn't too long before Charlie found them in this position, and after quickly laughing she settled down to listen as well, shortly followed by Jakes. Briggs tried to put it in his head as it being just like a sit-rep of a case. Although it was hard when Mike kept begging him to 'make the gopher sound' after each page. When he finished, Mike was already crawling down to find another book.

"Let's leave it for now, Mike," Briggs told him, stretching. "I'm sending myself to sleep and I need to be awake for this afternoon."

Mike frowned, trying to remember what was happening that day, when his eyes suddenly lit up, a beam on his face. "Yeah! Do you think you'll find the antidote?"

Briggs shrugged nonchalantly. "Should do. But he did also say that about 50% of his test subjects reverted back normally."

Mike grinned and hugged Snoopy, climbing back onto the couch, the sugar from the pop tarts not helping in the face of the slight shakiness he still felt from his illness.

"Can we watch a movie?" He asked. "It doesn't matter which one."

"I don't think we have many," Briggs said – knowing that everyone had their own movie collection, but he'd rather let the kid watch something that was more suited to his physical age. And why was he thinking that? It didn't matter, Mike would probably turn back today, he wouldn't want to watch some crappy animated movie, would he?

"I have some," Paige announced, getting up from the couch and going upstairs to her room.

"What time are you leaving?" Charlie asked Briggs, leaning back on the cushions.

"4," Briggs replied, holding his hand out loosely as Mike played with his fingers gently, content to just do that rather than get off the couch and find other toys. "It should be a really simple bust, there's not much of a threat from this guy, trust me." He kept a neutral face on, but inside he was turbulent. The site of the lab alone was making him think twice about the whole thing; maybe they should leave it a while? It would be entirely possible that Mike would snap out of it without the antidote, right? He felt Mike yank on one of his fingers and winced, gently taking his hand out of Mike's playful ones.

He saw the reason for Mike's sudden excitement in the form of Paige walking in, a stack of dvd's with her. "So, I don't know exactly what you want, but I've got a selection, and I took some of Johnny's stuff too if you wanted less Disney princess."

"You went in my room?" Johnny asked, frowned. "That's not cool, P."

"You have Disney movies?" Mike asked, finding them suddenly plonked onto his lap and started eagerly shifting through them. "I wouldn't have thought you'd have any," he remarked, seeing Brave, Lilo and Stitch, Tangled and The Fox and the Hound in the mix.

"Johnny has Cars," she told him, throwing him a glare when he tried to weakly protest. "It's one of his favourite movies," she added.

"Can we watch that?" Mike asked semi-shyly, putting the rest on the floor and climbing onto Briggs' lap. Briggs tried to protest, and even started to move Mike off his lap so that he himself could start getting ready for that afternoon, but Mike clutched onto him. "Please?" He asked quietly. "Just one?"

Briggs sighed but kept Mike on his lap, bouncing his knee slowly. Close to halfway through, Mike started giggling at Johnny's reactions to his apparent favourite movie, and Briggs found himself wondering if they'd have many more days like this. When they were between cases and content to just sit and watch movies together. Charlie would love it; she was the one who would believe with every fibre of her being that they were a family. Jakes was the one most vehemently against it, but even he was struggling to keep a contented smile off his face – even whilst watching the childish movie.

When it finished, Mike turned the puppy eyes on Briggs and he rolled his own, shaking his head. "Feel free to watch another one, kid, but I have things to do." Everyone else – although with an air of regret – admitted that they too, should be doing work, and so Mike found himself abandoned on the couch, a pick of DVD's to choose from, but with no one to watch them with. He had been left to his own devices in the living area and although he found that slightly neglectful, supposed they had entertained him for as long as they could. So he slotted another DVD in and part-watched it, the rest of the time trying to build a large castle with blocks, partly inspired by the movie he was watching.

"Whatcha doing, Mikey?" Johnny asked as he bounced over, clearly having done whatever it was he had been doing. He had even had time to go to Hector's, and the smell of the taco in his hand was making Mike start to drool slightly, and he couldn't even answer the question – instead he just stared at the food.

Johnny noticed this and chuckled. "You hungry, bro?" Upon Mike's nod, he went to the kitchen. "I'll make you something, what do you want?"

"Um…" Mike shrugged, having no idea what to eat – he just knew he was hungry, anything would have done at that point. "I don't know."

"Okay, we can work with that," Johnny said, pulling out one of his disgusting fruits. At Mike's horrified face he laughed. "Don't worry, man, this isn't for you. What do you say to mac and cheese instead?"

Mike nodded and as soon as he had confirmation that Johnny was indeed making it and not just building up his hopes only to destroy them, he went back to his castle, trying to make it look as grand and as Scottish as possible.

"Johnny?" He called out. "Does my castle look Scottish to you?"

The agent took a break from heating up Mike's food and glanced over. "Yeah, dude. It like, radiates Scotland. Throw some tartan in there and it'll be like we're there."

Mike giggled happily but soon become bored with his tower building. "Where's Briggs?" Mike asked, getting up and attaching himself to Johnny's leg, feeling himself getting more and more impatient for his food.

"He'll be drawing up plans and getting updates from the TAC team," Johnny replied, pouring the mac and cheese into a bowl and putting it on the table, Mike hastily clambering after it. "Why?"

Mike shrugged, already dropping food down his pyjamas, and down Snoopy. He scowled at the mess – he usually abhorred mess but right now he wanted food as fast as possible. Plus, the quicker he was finished, the quicker he could find Briggs. With this in mind, he ate fast, and what must have been 10 minutes passed before Johnny came over to him – apparently having left the room without Mike even realising.

"So uh, I just went to see if Briggs was finished yet cause I can't really leave you completely on your own and I really wanna catch some waves while they're good," he confided. "But he's in a bad mood in the phone room right now, so I'd advise against you going up there right now."

Mike frowned. "But I want to see him," he whined.

"I know, dude, but Briggs gets like this sometimes," Johnny told him.

"Maybe I can cheer him up," Mike negotiated, pulling at the man's elbow.

Johnny snorted. "Good luck, I haven't managed to cheer him out of one of his funks in the 2 years I've lived here."

Mike frowned but continued to eat his food in silence, thinking it all over. He could make Briggs feel better, he knew he could. Maybe if he couldn't do something that would make the man happy, then maybe making him proud would have the same effect.

With this in mind, he jumped down from his chair, leaving Johnny to grumble about doing the dishes, and rifled through what he was now pretty sure was his toy box. He found a large pad of paper and some pens and crayons. Torn between the two, he decided to just take both to the coffee table and chewed on the tip of one if the pens as he thought. He was worried that Briggs was angry at him because he couldn't read anymore. So maybe if he wrote a letter or something, then that would make it better.

"Dude, are you going to get changed at some point?" Johnny asked. "Cause those pj's probably need to go in the laundry."

Mike shrugged and put the pen to the paper, before drawing back. Even something as simple as writing his own name, or Briggs' name was just eluding him. And he didn't want to tell Johnny what was wrong, because then everyone would know that he couldn't read. He found himself growing more and more frustrated and slammed the pen down, resting his chin on his arms moodily.

"What's up?" Johnny asked, coming to sit by him.

"I wanna write Briggs something," Mike grumbled. "But I can't."

"Why not?" Johnny asked. When he didn't get a reply, he shrugged. "Why don't you draw something instead?"

Mike sat up and beamed delightedly. He pulled all of the different pens and crayons out, leaving large piles of them in front of him on the coffee table. After thinking carefully, he picked up the blue and drew some squiggly lines, before adding black figures on bright orange boards. To him, it made perfect sense, but Johnny was squinting slightly.

"It's surfing," Mike explained dourly, picking it up and looking at it, worrying. "Is it bad?"

"No, it's awesome," Johnny hastily enthused. "It just took me a while. You gunna draw anything else?"

Mike nodded and added things that definitely had Johnny lost. He was sure that Mike knew perfectly what he was drawing, but it was just squiggles, lines and shapes to him. He just hoped Briggs wouldn't disappoint the kid too much when he inevitably snapped at him for interrupting him with childish drawings.

"That's awesome," Johnny told him when he put a crayon down. "You gunna sign it?" Mike bit his lip, shrugging. "C'mon, if not then people are gunna think it's Jakes', and he'll get all the credit for drawing Briggs a picture."

Mike nodded and slowly picked up a pen. "Johnny…" he said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"How do… how do I…"

"How do you what?"

"How do I spell my name?"

"You… You don't know?" Johnny asked, looking shocked. It hadn't come up in conversation, but he had assumed that Mike still knew how to read and write. At the kid's small head shake, he pulled himself together. "That's cool. So uh… sound your name out?" He guessed, having no idea how to teach someone to read or write. Mike did so and after a long time – with Johnny's guidance – had a very shaky looking 'Mike' written on the bottom.

"I wanna write Briggs at the top," Mike said.

"Okay," Johnny said, exhausted from the effort of helping Mike and deciding to have some fun instead. "How about we do this one quickly, so you can give him it faster?" Mike nodded eagerly, and had Johnny carefully put his hand over Mike's so they wrote out the name together. "Okay, you're all set," Johnny said, grinning at him. "Go give it to him. I'm gunna go surf."

"Thanks, Johnny!" Mike said happily, grabbing his picture and running up the stairs.

"Maybe you should change your clothes first!" Johnny suggested before he grabbed his board. As he heard Mike running up, he started chuckling. He couldn't wait to hear about Briggs' reaction to the card.

* * *

After quickly changing, Mike hurried to the phone room, knocking politely before bursting in, unable to contain his excitement.

"I said not now, Johnny!" Briggs growled, before turning to throw something. He paused as he saw Mike stood there, a piece of paper badly hidden behind his back. "Mike. What are you doing?"

"Johnny said you were in a bad mood," Mike explained, walking over and bouncing excitedly. "So I've got something to make you feel better."

"Yeah?" Briggs couldn't help but give a small smile. He _was _in a bad mood, but this was a welcome distraction. "What is it?"

"I made you this!" Mike announced, passing the paper to him, grinning happily. "Do you like it?"

Briggs smiled at the childish drawings and scribbles. "This me?" He asked, pointing to the figure on the board. Mike nodded, ecstatic that Briggs understood. "And… what's that?" He asked, feeling bad that he didn't see whatever it was that Mike could.

"That's B.D," Mike explained, pointing to the black circle with sticks coming out of it, an orange ball next to it. "And he has Lannister in his mouth. And there's me," he pointed to some colour with a yellow squiggle on top of it. "I'm making a sand castle. And I signed it!" Mike said. "Look, see? I wrote my name! And yours!"

He pointed to them and Briggs felt his breath catch in his throat. The wiggly 'Mike' made him want to chuckle, but then the equally wiggly 'Daddy' made him pause. "You uh… you had any help with this, kiddo?" Briggs asked in an almost strangled voice.

"Well, Johnny helped me with spelling, but I wrote my name," Mike said, sounding disappointed that Briggs knew he didn't do it all by himself. "And he hurried yours. But now I'll remember how to spell it," he suggested, looking up at Briggs with puppy eyes.

"That's true," Briggs said lightly, already planning on how he would get back at Johnny. He decided to just let the kid believe he'd written 'Briggs' and just warn people not to mention it. "Thanks, Mikey."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it," Briggs assured him. "You wanna put it on the fridge?" Mike's resulting blush meant that he did, and Briggs laughed. "We'll go do that now, huh?" He stood up and took Mike's hand, walking him down the stairs.

"I don't want you to go," Mike mumbled as he was placed on the counter, swinging his legs and watching Briggs attach his drawing to the fridge with some magnets.

"Why not?" Briggs asked, opening the fridge once he was done and grabbing Jakes' OJ, swigging from it and offering it to the toddler.

Mike took a small sip. "'Cause…" he said softly. "I just don't want you to."

"That doesn't really explain much," Briggs told him, putting the OJ back in the fridge and grabbing Mike, tickling him slightly to make him laugh as he rested him back on his hip, wandering slightly aimlessly as they spoke.

"I don't know, I just get… I get these weird feelings where I miss you. Like… a lot. And I don't know why, and it even happens when you've just gone into a different room. But I get really paranoid and I panic and just wanna be able to see you again," Mike's lips had started wobbling. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Relax, Mike," Briggs said soothingly. "Lang told me that this happens with the serum. As soon as you're back to normal, everything'll be the way it was."

Mike snorted. "No it won't be. You'll probably still want to do something stupid like tuck me in."

"And you'll probably beg me to," Briggs teased, hitching him slightly higher up his hip. "But seriously, don't worry. After a while we can just forget all about this."

"I hope you're right," Mike said, slightly moodily, his thumb in his mouth.

"C'mon, Mike – this is me. Of course I am."

* * *

Mike drowsily came round from where he had fallen asleep on the couch. He remembered being told to nap and refusing, not wanting to miss Briggs leaving. But his body clearly argued and it wasn't long before he had collapsed where he was, drooling all over the cushions. Briggs had gone by the time he woke up, and he rubbed at his eyes, sitting up and wishing he'd been able to at least say goodbye.

"Hey, Mikey," Charlie said from the kitchen where she was pouring over a magazine. "You okay?"

"When's Briggs gunna be back?" He asked, fidgeting.

"Later, sweetie," Charlie replied, glancing up at him. "He said to tell you to be good."

Mike scowled at her. "I'm not a little kid," he muttered, getting off the couch and intentionally leaving Snoopy behind, and making it five steps before rushing back to grab the toy, holding it close to him. It felt better knowing he had something of Briggs' with him.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at him and he looked down at the floor, blushing. He shouldn't have snapped at her – she had a right to tell him to be good, there had been times where he'd acted awfully. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'll be good."

"I know," she replied, before casually saying; "I saw the drawing you made for Briggs."

"He liked it!" Mike said happily, glad they were off the subject. "And I even wrote my name! And his! Well, Johnny helped me with it, but I did it!" He bounced slightly, grinning. Charlie nodded, a small smile on her face. Briggs had told her what Johnny had done, and she had agreed not to tell Mike. He would be too embarrassed, and had been so proud of having his picture put up – she didn't want to spoil that.

"I saw," she told him, putting a hand on his head to calm him down. "Is there anything you want to do today?"

"Beach?" He asked. "I promise I'll be really good, I won't run away and I'll stay right where you can see me!" He begged. He just needed some time out of the house to take his mind off everything.

"I'll see who wants to go," Charlie told him, placing a gentle hand on his head to calm him. She shouted up the stairs and to her surprise, Johnny, Paige and Jakes all came down to see what she wanted. She was surprised even further when they all agreed to go to the beach. She thought it could be to do with the fact they all knew that Mike could be changed back that night – they would never admit it to anyone or themselves; Charlie wouldn't even admit it – but she knew it was partly because they would miss the toddler, as much as they all missed normal Mike, she had to admit younger Mike was more adorable – and watching him cling to Briggs was both hilarious and endearing.

They got down to the beach and immediately, Charlie and Paige set up some blankets that they could sunbathe on, leaving Jakes and Johnny to once more entertain the kid. Thus, Mike was grabbed and set upon Johnny's shoulders, his piercing squeals and giggles causing Paige and Charlie to glance over a second before rolling their eyes and lying back down. It could almost be equated to lionesses napping before hearing a scrap and seeing their cubs fighting, before simply ignoring it and leaving them to their own stupidity.

After a while Johnny collapsed next to Charlie in the sand in exhaustion, and Jakes too quickly sat down in case Mike would try to climb on him next and expect a ride. Paige huffed and stood up, seeing Mike fidgeting in the sand, wanting to do something just not sure what.

"C'mon, Levi," she said, grabbing his hand and walking to the shoreline. "You wanna jump some waves?" Mike nodded quickly in agreement and together they leapt over the water when it rolled in – Paige having to often lift Mike by his arm to stop him getting soaked as he nearly fell over more than once.

Just as Paige was about to say that maybe they should go and rest for a while, a bark sounded down the beach.

"B.D!" Mike gasped, looking at Paige. "Can I go play with him? Please?"

Paige looked over at everyone else. Charlie was pretty much asleep, and Johnny was just winding Jakes up. "Okay," she sighed. "Just don't go very far, alright?" Mike flung himself around her in a hug and dashed off, leaving her to fret about the seat water that had been pasted around her in the hug.

"B.D!" Mike yelled as he ran. "C'mere boy!" He followed the barking and stumbled to a very sudden halt as he saw that the dog was in the middle of a circle of men, prodding him to make him scared and angry. "Hey!" He shouted, forgetting for the moment he was just a little kid and there were three brutish men in front of him. "Leave him alone!"

They turned and his blood ran cold as he saw the ring leader.

"Hello, Michael."

* * *

After they secured the warehouse, Briggs wandered up and down the different lab stations as FBI scientists examined every single agent in a bottle. It would take them days to actually find the antidote if there was one, but thankfully Briggs found he didn't mind being here. However, all he could think of were two things – the first being Mike, and wondering if he would be back before the kid went to bed, and the second being Lang. He needed to find that son of a bitch. The location of the warehouse wasn't just coincidence – it can't have been.

"Agent Briggs!" He turned as someone called his name and frowned; one of the TAC team ran to him, holding a phone and being swamped by different agents.

"What?"

"A call came through on this cell – we just found it here. The guy on the other line, he wants to talk to you."

Briggs quirked an eyebrow but nodded, taking the phone. "This is Special Agent Paul Briggs."

"_Hello, Paul_."

"Bello," Briggs breathed out. "What do you want?"

"_It's more of a question of what do you want, my friend_," Bello told him, and Briggs found his legs wobbling and threatening to crash him to the floor when he heard Mike crying on the other end.

* * *

**A/N Yayyy plot :D Again, I'm SO sorry for the wait, like - a thousand sorrys, I just hope this chapter makes up for it, and I hope I can get round to writing the next one soon :)**


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